


If That Is What You Wish

by AlariceTheMagpie



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Crossover, Fluff, Gen, I add tags as I go to avoid spoilers but you can be pretty sure other magical girls are showing up, Narrator Chara, On Hiatus, Parental emotional abuse, Psychological Trauma, References to Suicide, References to Undertale Genocide Route, Selectively Mute Frisk, The usual puella magi masquerade, a fusion between the two magic systems, accidentally wrote Chara as 'her' instead of 'they', hope you don't mind, it alternates, monster discrimination, mostly PMMM at this point, or she used to be, will fix it once first draft is done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 00:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 37,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7291999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlariceTheMagpie/pseuds/AlariceTheMagpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The monsters are finally free, but the surface poses problems of its own. And as their Ambassador, it's Frisk's responsibility to step up and fix them....Isn't it?</p><p>Fic is on hiatus while it undergoes major revisions</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Finale

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if there are any errors that I missed. I don't have a beta reader yet.
> 
> I'll be adding character tags as they appear.
> 
> Thanks for reading

“kiddo… promise me something.”

Frisk yawns but sits up, struggling against the near-sleep brought on by the bedtime story. Sans has shut the book and set it aside, and now is looking anywhere but at them.

He scratches at the back of his neck. “look, everyone’s happiness is riding on this, okay? it’s not just me.”

Frisk nods. It was pretty clear where this was going, considering everything they’d learned underground.

“so, do us a favor, and – promise you won’t reset again.”

Right to the point. Worlds apart from every other time he’s finally brought himself to say it. Sooner, too. Frisk wonders what brought this change on. They nod anyway, raising their hands.

**I promise.**

Sans looks at them, not really looking like he dares to believe it yet. Of course not. He lets out a huff, almost a chuckle. “that easily? wow, buddy. i might almost think you didn’t mean it.”

Frisk crawls out from the covers, then, and takes his hands in theirs. Carefully, they raise their fading voice. “I p-promise-“

Sans nearly backs away. “hey, you don’t need to –“

“L-let me f-finish.”

Sans falls quiet.

“I-if –“ And Frisk takes a moment, it’s vitally important to get the wording right, right now, earlier than they’d thought, they didn’t even get to prepare – “every-one is – a-al-right, I w-won’t. I pro-m-mise.” They see his expression start to close, the hint of unease spreading over it before he shuts it down, like always. “B-but there’sss some-thing big c-c-c-coming.” Despite everything, Frisk starts to shake. They try to hold still. “I-i-it’s – it’ll –“

“hey.” A hand slips from their grasp and rests on their back. His face isn’t closed off anymore. There’s something there they only usually see after they’ve spilled everything, after the entire thing’s out in the open and everyone gets to realize all at once how screwed they all are. “it’ll be alright. just – let us know what to do.”

Frisk hesitates, then chooses to smile, and nods. Sans wipes away the tears they didn’t notice gathering in their eyes. It must have been something like that which gave them away early, this time. Every time they thought about it, thought about every RESET, they got just a little more nervous. It must have built up. **Tomorrow** , they sign.

Sans sighs, but hugs them, and they return it. Then Sans is standing up, stepping out, flashing them a grin from the doorway. “g’nite, kiddo.” And the door closes.

Frisk realizes he must have been less calm than he let on.

They have every intention of following through with that promise. It’s just, things get in the way, aboveground.

Against their chest, the cold metal of the ring rests on their heartbeat.


	2. Introduction

“Someone has to take care of these flowers.”

And that was the last they heard of him.

Not a day goes by that Frisk doesn’t have some passing nightmare, some sharp pang of guilt, over leaving their friend underground and telling no one. Even if it was by his wishes.

Everything seems to remind them of him. The color yellow, or green, or white, or purple like the Ruins, or ruby red like eyes; anything remotely soft, anything quiet or small. It’s crushing them.

Soon it starts to show. In their schoolwork, classes, at lunchtime, with their friends. They pay less and less attention to what’s really around them. They care less.

Toriel notices, of course. It breaks their heart. How are they supposed to tell _her?_

Sans and Papyrus notice. They each try to help in their own ways. Frisk puts on a brave face for them.

Undyne’s brand of help makes them feel like they’re expected to recover, like there’s something wrong with them for, well, something being wrong with them. Alphys doesn’t know how to help. Mettaton, despite taking an entirely different route, reaches Undyne’s effect as well.

What was wrong with them? They were supposed to be okay. It was his choice.

Eventually it becomes too much, and Frisk starts withdrawing. They spend less and less time outside, in the too-green spring grass, beside the yellow flowers. Their room is devoid of any colors related to him. Everything is blue or orange or grey or black. Somehow, impossibly, Frisk still feels guilty. Maybe because it’s like they’re trying to erase him.

_No_ , stop thinking that. That’s not it at all.

Then why?

Frisk’s brain runs in circles, reaching worse and worse conclusions about them. Everything they think is taken out of context and twisted by their own mind. To blame them like they deserve _STOP_ –

It was like this that it found them: huddled on the floor past their bedtime, blanket forgotten in a pile to the side, hands twisting their hair out of their roots.

And it said, “What are you so upset about? Didn’t you know? You have had the power to save him this entire time.”

Frisk looks up, neck aching from the jerk, and meets ruby-red eyes. They’re not his.

They belong to a small, white-furred, catlike creature. Out of its wide ears hang two long strands of fur, ending in pink, around which two gold rings float as if suspended by its own magic.

For a moment, Frisk is confused. They had never met a monster like this before.

It continues smiling at them. “Would you like that?” it offers from their windowsill.

Frisk considers leaving to get Toriel first, but it turns, as if it’s going to leap straight through the glass and disappear forever. They reconsider.

They raise their hands. **How?**

It turns back. “Make a contract with me,” it says. It sounds as bland as if it were offering to trade lunches.

**What does that mean?**

“It means I will grant you a wish, and in exchange, you will gain magic powers and join the fight against despair,” it says like it’s reading the back of a book, or a movie description.

It sounds important. Despair is one of the things that can kill a monster before their time. And as the ambassador for monsters, wasn’t it their job to make things better for them? What could be more important?

But if Frisk has become anything in their RESETs, it’s clever. **What’s it like?** they ask, trying to seem curious instead of wary.

“It’s difficult,” the creature admits. “There is enough despair to make it a daily fight. But, you wouldn’t be alone. There are thousands of others like you that have made their wishes and joined the fight. Besides, you have enough potential that even if you fight every day, it shouldn’t take longer than a few minutes.”

Again, Frisk considers asking Toriel. It must have shown on their face, because the creature turns back to the window. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to decide tonight. When you’re ready, I’ll be there.” And it goes straight through the glass as if the window weren’t there, and leaps down, out of sight.

Frisk doesn’t get much sleep that night.


	3. What is a wish worth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for ruining your dreams

**Mom,** Frisk begins when they have her attention, **if – there were some way to save someone, but – but it was really hard – would you do it?**

Toriel looks at them completely, now, studying their face and trembling hands. “My child, whatever brought this up?”

 **If there was someone who was in a bad place –** and to their embarrassment, they feel one tear, then two, slipping down their cheeks – **and they didn’t want to be saved, but you knew you could fix it, shouldn’t you? Shouldn’t –** and their hands were shaking too hard to sign any further.

Toriel gathers them up in a hug, surrounding them in plush-soft white fur and the smell of spice and baking. They can barely stand it. “Oh, my child – whoever is saying these things to you? This isn’t – children should not need to think of these things,” she says decisively.

They want to let it all go, just give up and say the same, that they’re just a kid, they shouldn’t have to worry about saving someone’s life, they’re only eleven years old. But they know it would be a lie. They’re not just “a kid”. They’ve lived who knows how many years underground, having “fun” and then learning to empathize, teaching themself to look for where they could solve others’ problems. They’re the only one with this ability, after all. It’s their responsibility to do the right thing.

So they take a moment, just one selfish moment, and throw themself against Toriel and sob. It wasn’t going to be over. Of course it wasn’t, not for them. They would have to keep fighting forever. It wasn’t _fair. Didn’t they do enough already?_

But the moment passes, and they collect themself, as composed as the adult they are. A little fighting in order to save a life, and hundreds more from despair. There wasn’t really a choice, was there? So they sign, **I’m asking because someone won’t,** and feel guilt try to drown them for lying. But then, it wasn’t entirely a lie. The part of their mind that made them cry was still there. It should be ashamed.

After a pause, Toriel says over their shoulder, “Everyone should be saved. Can you tell me who it is who needs help?”

Frisk shakes their head.

Toriel frowns but hugs them one last time. “Could you tell Sans? Or someone else?”

Frisk shakes their head again, and signs, **Soon. But not yet.**

It wasn’t enough, but Toriel accepts it, like an adult. Like Frisk should, by now.

\---

That night, Frisk has a question for the creature.

It’s already waiting at the windowsill outside. Rather than watch it phase through the glass again, Frisk opens the window for it. It jumps up and rubs its back against Frisk’s arm, like a cat. “Thank you.”

Frisk nods and shuts the window behind it. **How much ‘potential’ do I have?**

It blinks over its immobile smile. “Lots.”

**Enough to save more than one person?**

“Absolutely.”

 **How about eight?** Frisk rushes the question out. The creature doesn’t seem to mind.

“Easily.” It begins to groom its paws. “Who did you have in mind?”

**How about everyone who died underground?**

That gives the creature pause. It places its paw back down, looking Frisk in the eye. “Everyone? From how far back?”

 **From since the Barrier was put up,** they sign decisively.

It tilts its head to one side. “Interesting. Yes, I think you might be able to do it.”

Frisk’s heart skips a beat. They were so sure that wouldn’t be possible, that they would have to decide who gets to live, that they had put off really committing to it. It had posed a problem they didn’t think they could resolve right away. They could feel their brain begin to stir up shame at that, the slightest chance they could put this off, so they pressed forward; might as well push their limits. **What about everyone who died in the War?**

“Not possible,” it says immediately, and Frisk’s face falls. They stomp the tiny bit of relief under their feet. They have to think of something else now. To prove they’re doing the right thing. 

**How about…** They pause, then remember the flak Sans has gotten for running a hotdog stand. **How about peace between humans and monsters?** If they can manage that, they can set down the mantle of ‘ambassador’ and fight despair full-time.

The creature actually takes a step back. “That would mean enforcing an ongoing universal effect on everyone’s minds and free will. No one is capable of that.”

Frisk’s face falls again, and it feels for a moment like they’ve failed. But, no. They could bring back lost loved ones, reunite broken families. They’re doing good. They’re doing what they’re supposed to.

The creature looks at them expectantly. “Do you have the wish that will make your SOUL shine bright?”

Frisk hesitates, and shame rushes up to meet them like a tsunami. They nod.

The creature’s eyes glint. “Then tell me your wish.”

And Frisk signs their own gravestone.


	4. Revival

They pour out from the Underground like a flood from the deep of the earth.

Frisk is waiting close outside for those nearest the exit. First, six humans emerge, looking scared in each their own way. Several of them have LOVE; one, a frightening amount. Frisk jumps down to greet them, to point them toward the trail that leads down to the humans-only campground. Hopefully they won’t cause any problems there.

After they’ve left (because a couple are headstrong, and the others just followed), Frisk turns back to the mouth of the cave and waits.

Monsters begin to emerge. A crowd builds, and builds and builds until it draws Sans’ attention to where Frisk has run off to and when he teleports in close he just stares at the mass of people. Frisk tugs on his hand until he looks down, fixing his bewildered gaze on Frisk, finally, and putting two and two together and realizing Frisk had something to do with this before Frisk’s frantic pointing gets him to turn and follow, and –

He sees the man and completely forgets the kid. He’s gone before Frisk has the chance to blink.

When Frisk gets close enough to them, they realize Sans is actually _crying._

The tall skeleton-man in a dark suit is hugging him, stroking his back like Toriel did Frisk’s just the other day, and it hits Frisk just how wonderful a choice this was.

For one glorious, shining moment, they did enough.

The word spreads like wildfire and soon the mountain is deluged with monsters, everyone looking for their lost and finding them. Undyne’s shouting “ _MOM_ ” and Grillby and his daughter are embracing a blue fire monster and Asgore is going around shaking the hands of so many grizzled-looking elders with tears in his eyes and everyone is so _happy._

Papyrus’ shriek of shock and joy tells them he found his brother, and who Frisk is assuming is their dad. They turn toward it and find that Sans has slipped away, just for a moment, to look at them with the closest expression to joy they’ve ever seen him wear.

“kid,” Sans manages to say, “what did you do?”

Frisk twists the ring on their finger from behind their back, and drops it into their back pocket. **It’s a secret** , they sign.

\---

At the last, just before sunset, a final sound comes from the cave into the Underground. Frisk whirls around from their friends to face it, exhilaration on their face. Just wait until they can tell him “I told you I wouldn’t leave you –“

But it’s not one pair of feet padding out, it’s two, and as Toriel and Asgore draw near to the front with hope clear on their faces, the crowd quiets to murmurs out of respect for the queen and king, realizing that they haven’t seen the prince yet.

When the fading sunlight finally hits his face, he’s wearing a tired smile and supporting someone else. “Hi Mom, Dad.”

They rush forward. Toriel begins to sob, one child tucked onto each of her shoulders. Asgore embraces them and it doesn’t look like Toriel can bring herself to mind. Frisk gets it. What does that matter, right now?

Frisk’s gaze meets the eyes of their human child. They wink. Chara doesn’t respond, but Frisk thinks she understands.

A hand falls on their shoulder; it’s Sans, of course. “i don’t know how you did it, kid, but – thank you,” he says.

Frisk hugs him. _It’s nothing. It’s what they’re supposed to do._

“heh.” He hugs them back, and stiffens. “so, um. this brought back the king’s human kid, huh? did, did it bring back the others?”

Frisk nods against him.

He puts his hands on their shoulders, kneels to face them eye-to-eye. “and, uh, where are they? i haven’t seen them.”

 **In the human camp** , Frisk signs. They flinch at the expression that flashes across his face. **I thought they’d be able to stay out of trouble there. I don’t think all of them were friendly.**

Sans takes a moment, and nods. “that makes sense. if you’d told me though, i could’ve watched them. kept them outta trouble.”

**But, your dad –**

Sans waves it off. “eh, that’s true. you know, it’s probably fine.” He stands again, smile aglow at the Dreemurrs. “this is… way better than i ever thought i would get.” He turns the smile to Frisk, who feels suddenly inadequate. He rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “you’re a good kid, Frisk.”

As if that had been the code, the walls of shame Frisk had built up come crashing down and joy floods into their heart as pure as the monsters around them. They squeak, and trap him in a hug, and can’t let go even as he turns blue and Papyrus finds them and picks them up in another layer of hug. This is their duncle, their Sans, and he’s _proud_ of them. He thinks they’re _good._ He thinks they’re _good!_

There is a species-wide celebration that night, and the next, and the next even after they’ve all gone to their respective homes and are trying to settle in again with near-triple the number that first came out. It’s not until the weekend news hits that Frisk is made to realize how badly they messed up.


	5. Fallout, part 1

“CHILDREN FOUND AT CAMP ON MT EBOTT,” the report is titled. “CLAIM MONSTERS ARE MURDERERS?”

Frisk stares at the headline in horror. The report goes on to explain how every one of them speaks an older language, some of them outright dead, and how they’re doing in quarantine in the local hospital while they get inspected for old diseases and caught up on modern immunizations. It shouldn't be possible, the commenters insist, but clearly whatever tripled the numbers of monsters also brought back their own kind - and exposed the monsters for the danger they are. 

Frisk buries their face in their hands. _Good going, Ambassador._ They briefly consider resetting, keeping a better eye on the children next time. They depended on that too much already, but wasn't it warranted here? 

Before they can make the call, Toriel catches them with the article onscreen. She draws them into her arms. “My child, don't worry about things like that,” she says. “It was… bound to come out eventually anyway. Besides, at least they're alive again.” Her voice shakes and Frisk looks up to realize she's _crying._ Of course. Every one of those kids were hers too, at one time. Frisk had forgotten to tell her they were alright. A needlepoint of shame buries itself in their shoulder. 

Frisk buries their reaction in turn and smiles at her, patting her back. In a little while, they would have to figure out what to do with Asgore in the face of humanity's combined rage. For now, the children should be under close watch - kept safe and out of trouble - and they could afford to just let their mom be happy. 

…

“So how'd you do it?” Chara asks. 

Laying on her stomach on their bed, presumably to color with them, Chara kicks her feet back and forth over the edge. Frisk tries to think of a response.

“Don't get me wrong, it's amazing you saved everyone and no one knows about it!” She grins, elbowing them from their rest over a drawing of a dog. “But hey, we're partners, right? You _have_ to tell me.”

Frisk isn't sure they should. If they had enough potential to bring every monster back, who knows how much Chara has? What would she do with it?

“Hey,” Chara insists, jabbing them in the side with a finger. “Answer me, or else.”

Frisk lifts an eyebrow at her, setting their crayons down to sign **Or else what?** It only hits them as her face splits with a mischievous grin how it could backfire to goad her.

“Or else… _this!_ ” She pounces on them, mercilessly tickling until they turn red in the face. They flail, grabbing at her arms, they can’t sign like this -

Asriel comes back in with a paper plate of cookies because of course he does, he said he was going to the bathroom but he can’t even do that without stopping by the kitchen on his way back to give his friends something nice. The smell of freshly baked chocolate chips stops Chara mid-strike, arms frozen in a ridiculous pose for a fraction of a second before she launches herself off the bed and into the cookies. Asriel tries to save them by throwing his arms up but Chara knocks him to the ground and cookie crumbs fall around them like confetti.

“Ah! No! Those were for all of us!” he protests in vain. Chara has already scrambled to gather them in her shirt and now she’s crouching in the corner of the bed like a guard dog, Lesser Dog to be precise.

“I am the gatekeeper of the chocolate confectionary!” she announces in her deepest, most dramatic villain voice. “Surrender now or be forced to… to… go without the… chocolate confectionaries!!!”

“I surrender, o magnificent gatekeeper,” Asriel says in the deadpan voice he picked up from Sans, eliciting a pout from his sister and a giggle from Frisk.

Chara grudgingly hands him a half-cookie - they’ve all broken up by this point - and turns to Frisk as they raise their hands.

“Halt, former partner!” she commands. “In order to be _granted_ this _most grand_ opportunity to taste the _delicious_ chocolate of - of the kingdom of Toriel, the _most high_ queen, you must -” But Frisk has already gone back to scribbling on the page. They’re not interested in telling Chara about the wish-creature and they don’t have another answer ready yet. 

Asriel has folded his arms and is tapping his foot in a darn-near perfect imitation of their mother. He’s even got the signature glare down. Let it not be said that his time as Flowey was wasted.

“...You must…” Chara scowls. “ _Fine._ ” She lets the rest of the cookies spill onto the bed, taking several for herself before hopping down and tossing a stuffed rabbit doll at her brother. “Let’s play ‘Fluffy Bunny gets lost in the forest’.”

Asriel snatches up the rabbit. “Awesome! Are you the wolf or the bear this time?”

Content they’ll be left in peace for now, Frisk begins illustrating their sibs’ adventures as the pair co-narrate a dramatic, and ultimately tragic, tale.


	6. The Duty of a Magical Girl, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because really, what else would it be.

“Now that your wish has been fulfilled,” the creature says, “it is time to begin your training.”

Frisk stands before it, shining red egg-gem held out on their palm. The two of them are in a park in the middle of the night, since Frisk didn’t want to risk waking either of their siblings. Their chest swells with determination. They’re ready.

“Reach inside your heart and draw out your magic,” it says.

It’s strange, but not altogether unwelcome, to find a core of magic expanded out from where they once found DeTermination. They’re sure if they reach deeper, they’ll find it again, but they don’t want to reset yet. They need to give this timeline a chance. So Frisk coaxes out a thread of roiling red magic, feeling it coalesce around them as it leaves their SOUL. They are briefly engulfed in a bright light. When they look down, they gasp.

A fluffy, frilly, red and black dress has replaced their normal clothes. They huff, hands falling into signs before they can think to stop them. **There’s a reason I don’t wear this type of thing.**

“It’s standard for magical girls, and it doesn’t really change,” the creature tells them, and then scratches at its ear with a hind leg. “I just realized I’ve forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Kyuubey.”

 **Frisk,** they sign back politely. They look over themself once more and shrug. There’s nothing they can really do, then. At least they won’t be wearing this out in public - or, they assume they won’t. They’ve never heard of magical girls before this (although, didn’t those signs underground mention human magicians?) so it seems like they’ll be expected to keep it a secret.

 _Yet another secret._ But before their shoulders can hunch with the weight, Kyuubey goes on:

“Now, you’ll need to summon your weapon in order to fight the despair-creatures.”

Frisk looks up sharply. Weapon? _Creatures?_ That wasn’t what they had in mind.

Kyuubey begins grooming one of its front paws. “Raw despair is weaponized by creatures known as Witches. They have no goal in mind other than to cause despair, be it through death, abuse, injury, or any other way they can manage.”

Frisk frowns. **Can’t they be reasoned with? I’m sure if I get the chance to talk to them -** _I literally can’t fail._

“There are no recorded incidents of a Witch being convinced to stop spreading despair or hurting people,” Kyuubey informs them. “Not in our whole record of dealing with humans - several thousand years.”

Their heart plummets. So, they’ll be forced to _kill_ these things?

“They’ll kill you,” Kyuubey says.

Frisk lifts their chin in defiance. That didn’t stop them with Undyne.

“They’ll kill your friends.”

That didn’t stop them with _Flowey._

“They don’t think the way we do,” Kyuubey says, “but, maybe it’s better to just show you.”

Frisk steps back in alarm and Kyuubey flicks its tail in what looks like disdain.

“I’m not about to sic one on you,” it says. “I was just going to introduce you to the local magical girls. Actually, they’re almost here.” It turns eastward.

Frisk turns too, clenching their hand around their gem, ready to move just in case someone is less than friendly. But in a few giant yet graceful leaps, a pair of girls lands before them. One is in a black and white top with a yellow skirt and her blonde hair up in spirals, and the other has tied her impressively long auburn locks back with a black bow to complement her red dress and black tights. Frisk fiddles with their own unbrushed hair. They feel, very suddenly and ridiculously, underdressed.

“A pleasure to meet you,” says the blonde one with a short bow. Her spiral locks bounce, utterly ignoring the slight breeze. “My name is Tomoe Mami.”

“And I’m Sakura Kyouko,” the other says with a grin.

 _How did they know I would be here?_ Frisk hesitantly raises their hands and signs their name. 

They give Frisk a blank look.

“It’s alright,” Kyuubey interrupts. It leaps between them, curling its tail. “Frisk is selectively mute. They prefer to sign, but I will use my telepathy to translate.”

 _What._ This thing could read their mind the entire time? The park suddenly feels like too exposed of a location, the clear overhead sky a bit too open. And of course this is how the pair knew where to find them. At least they weren’t home or there’d be a breaking-and-entering to deal with on top of this.

“Sounds good,” Mami says. She smiles at Frisk, gentle and motherly. “We meant to be out hunting Witches tonight. Would you care to join us?”

A shudder runs through their body. How high of LOVE does this pair have? They can’t tell like they could with the other children. Is it because those kids didn’t have magic and they do? **Is that strictly necessary?** they ask.

A scowl grows on Kyouko’s face as Kyuubey finishes translating. “I don’t see how you expect us to save anyone if we can’t hunt. How old is this kid?” she demands from Kyuubey. “Nine? Ten?”

 **Twelve next month,** Frisk signs, but she ignores them, or perhaps Kyuubey isn’t translating.

Mami folds her arms. “Well, we can’t just bring a magical girl so young into a Labyrinth. Have you fought anything yet?” she asks, not unkindly. Frisk shakes their head, ignoring the guilt sharpening its claws down their spine. _It’s not entirely a lie. I haven’t fought anything she means._

“What’s your weapon, Frisk?” Kyouko asks. At this point Frisk isn’t too interested in knowing, themself. They just shrug, and Kyouko tsks. “Haven’t even brought out your weapon yet?” 

She summons hers to show off her point. Between her hands, a spear with a large diamond-shaped head on the end materializes. She twirls it once and stands it up at her side. It dwarfs her, towering up to the glittering night sky. “I’m almost a master with this baby.” Mami shoots her a look and she gives a cheeky grin back.

Kyuubey weaves between their feet, already looking up when they notice. “It’s best to learn to control it now, before stress causes you to use it,” it says. Frisk gulps, images flashing behind their eyelids, and nods. They’ve never seen any monster lash out in panic with magic, but it makes sense that would be possible. As a human, that wouldn’t be a good situation for anyone. Kyuubey continues, “To summon it, you need to reach into your magic, but search for something offensive. Equip it, if you will.”

It doesn’t sound like anything they want to go back to, but it’s their wish that got them into this, and it’s only now hitting them just how much they didn’t know. Maybe they will have to reset. For now, though, they take a deep breath to try to calm down. They don’t need to _use_ this weapon. They just need to hold it. Within their magic, they feel a denser spot, and their hand curls around something solid.

Kyouko lets out a low whistle. They look down. Their stomach lurches.

Perched in their hand is a foot-long, serrated, beautifully carved red and silver _knife._

Before they know it they’ve dropped it and are scrambling backwards, practically on all fours, kicking up _dust-_

Mami rushes to their side, holding them up as they try not to gag. It feels like the world is spiralling in on them, crushing on their shoulders and condensing into a point that drags their gut through their feet. This can’t be right. This _can’t be right._

“Hey, what’s -” they hear from Kyouko, distantly, through dust caking their ears _NO IT’S NOT--_

and the blade shines innocently in the dirt, puffs of ---- settling around it. If they look at it from this angle, pointed away, it looks like it’s inscribed with a smile.

Frisk wants to cry and can’t.


	7. The Duty of a Magical Girl, part 2

They can’t talk to anyone at breakfast the next morning.

Mami and Kyouko brought them home safely, kindly refraining from questions even as Frisk choked when they _felt it_ dissipate, _why_ does it have to be so tightly tied to their SOUL, there’s no way they’ll fight anything with _that-_

After Frisk clambered in through their window and settled into their bed, blissfully alone, they couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. There was always the chance it was just an aftereffect of the panic attack, but they could never be too sure. This morning, they toy with their oatmeal at the kitchen counter and let Asriel and Chara watch the Saturday morning commercials in the next room without them.

A gentle, warm hand places itself on their back. “My child,” came Toriel’s voice, “is everything alright?”

Frisk musters up a smile just for her. **Doing well, thanks. Just missed a bit of sleep.**

“Oh dear. Well, I have lavender if you need any,” she offers, and they sign their thanks. She chuckles. “You’re welcome, and love you too,” and returns to her syllabus work in the dining room.

That does bring a mischievous grin to their face. They absolutely adore the possible puns they can make while signing. They wonder briefly if their duncle is aware of them, but of course he has to be, he knows their sign language. A familiar theme song erupts from the television and draws them out of hiding, pushing their darker thoughts to the back of their mind. Still wearing a grin, they plop down beside their sibs, mouthing the words along with them.

_I wanna be the very best, like no one ever was~_

After the song ends, the narrator’s voice whisks them away from the real world, and all the problems in it. Frisk resolves to just let themself relax.

Ash and co. are falling for another of Team Rocket’s transparent disguises when Chara leans over.

“Gonna tell me what you were doing out so late?” Chara whispers. They freeze. “Don’t worry, I haven’t told Mom yet, partner. It’s because you’re my _partner,_ partner.” She elbows them for emphasis.

Frisk grits their teeth. They didn’t have an answer. How could they have an answer? They were too freaked out by their - by their weapon to think of anything, and they didn’t want to get Chara involved when they didn’t even know the whole of what they’d just launched themself into -

Chara frowns. “Underground to Frisk, heyo, is everything alright?” She crawls around to be up in Frisk’s face. “If it’s ambassador stuff, just let me know, I’ll stop bugging you. But we’re friends, aren’t we?”

**Of course -** Frisk signs, biting their lip. **I just - I can’t really - I don’t know how to -**

“Frisk, did you clean up after yourself?” comes Toriel’s heavenly voice from the kitchen. Frisk jumps up, filled with relief. “No you didn’t, I can see your bowl sitting right here, you’re letting it dry out!” Ignoring Chara’s pointed look, Frisk rushes back to their bowl, delighted to let the conversation drop for now. They’re going to have to figure out what to do with her at some point, but it sure doesn’t need to be right this minute.

Especially not with flashes of steel flooding their vision each time they remember their ring.

…

The weekend passes by in a blur. Cartoons, games, parks and meals all blend together until they’re lying in bed, having successfully avoided the imminent confrontation Chara seemed to be intent on forcing, and they could just about believe they don’t really have to fight anything. Nothing’s come for them or their friends, and with two other magical girls nearby, there’s really nothing to worry about. Satisfied, they slip into a near-sleep haze.

A shadow passes over their floor - no, from their window. Frisk isn’t sure if they’re dreaming or not, but they sit up anyway.

“May I come in?” It’s Kyuubey. Of course. Trying not to frown, Frisk trudges over to the window to open it.

“Thank you,” it says. It slides in, arching its back against the inside of the frame. “You should really think about training, you know. Your magic won’t last forever.”

The frown secures itself on their face. **What do you mean?**

“I mean, your magic will slowly use itself up day by day. You can restore it by using a drop from a defeated Witch, but if you don’t want to fight, you shouldn’t expect any other magical girls to share theirs with you.” Kyuubey says this with barely any inflection and no change in expression, which, surprisingly, they’re starting to get used to. “If you continue as you are now, you’ll run lower on magic and start to feel worse and worse. When you run out, you won’t be able to fight at all. Anything could take you out, then.” It meets their eyes with its unblinking red gaze.

Frisk crosses their arms. It’s far too late to be dealing with this. **I wish you’d told me sooner.**

“I thought it was obvious. Didn’t you spend a lot of time around monsters?” Kyuubey jumps down to their floor and pads around. It finally picks a spot to circle and sit in, facing them. 

**They don’t really _use up_ their magic. ** Once free, Frisk’s hand finds its way to mess with the ring on their finger.

“Of course they do. They fall down.”

Frisk jolts, leveling a horrified stare at Kyuubey. That can’t be. They’re a human, they can’t… Does that happen to magical girls, too?

“So you can see why it would be concerning when you didn’t express any desire to meet up again with Tomoe Mami and Sakura Kyouko,” it goes on. “In fact, your reaction last time may indicate that you might be at a severe disadvantage while fighting.”

Frisk drops their gaze, scuffs their feet. **Why is it a -** They hesitate to name it, to give it validity in some way - **a knife?**

“Every magical girl has a weapon uniquely tuned to their SOUL,” Kyuubey explains. Each word curdles in their gut. “Your particular weapon must have left a significant impression on you.”

Their hands are nearly a blur. **Is there any way a weapon can change?**

“As far as I know, there isn’t. At least, not as drastically as you would like.” Kyuubey pauses, turning its eyes to the floor for a moment. “It could be that what you need, in order to recover, is controlled exposure. A situation in which you have absolute control over how long it lasts and what you do with it. A way to confront this on your terms.”

Frisk is already shaking their head, motioning to shoo Kyuubey away. They wouldn’t dare risk it. It’s their responsibility to handle all of this, to be sure nothing bad happens (or at least not permanently), and to _never ever_ stray near that path again. Dangit, they _almost_ had a perfect weekend, and it just _had_ to show up and drop this on them now… 

“Well, whether you choose to fight or let your magic drain away, please make your choice quickly, before the magical girls become too concerned over you,” Kyuubey warns. It jumps back up on the windowsill, and Frisk moves to shut the still-open window behind it. “I will let them know you’re still not feeling well. But it seems as though they’ve adopted you as their student, and with you sequestered like this, they’re becoming distracted with worry, which could be dangerous in a fight.” And with that, it finally leaves.

Frisk sinks back into bed with a huff. Then they bury their head in their arms. So they’re becoming a problem to Mami and Kyouko, too. Isn’t there anything they can do right?


	8. Fallout, part 2

This morning, Toriel receives something in the mail that she won’t share with Frisk. She spends a good hour texting the others, and by the time she’s finished the doorbell is ringing. Frisk runs to answer it - maybe they’ll get some answers from whoever she’s called - and gasps with delight. 

It’s Sans, Papyrus and their newfound father, Gaster. They haven't really had the chance to spend time with him yet! 

Frisk is swept up into a hug by Papyrus, and when they're finally let down they give Sans a hug and turn their puppy eyes on Gaster.

He only smiles endearingly and pats them on the head, however. Then he moves past them to share a solemn look with Toriel, and Sans lets go of them and joins the adults in the kitchen. 

Papyrus pulls their attention back. “WHY DON'T WE PLAY A BOARD GAME?” he offers with a slight smile. Before they can find a way to kindly refuse, though, he has fastened his glove around their wrist and is leading them back to the living room where Chara and Asriel are playing. 

It's Monopoly, because of course it is, it has to take up as much time as possible, and also both Papyrus and Chara love it. Frisk can't pay any attention to the game. Something is clearly going wrong and they're being kept out of it. They're the Ambassador! Shouldn't they be involved in everything? How else are they supposed to do their job? 

After their next turn (during which they pay Chara a ridiculous amount of money for landing on her space), they stand, sign for the bathroom as an excuse, and head over to the perfect eavesdropping position nearby that Asriel discovered about a week ago. 

They make sure they're hidden from view, then lean in and cup an ear.

“...don't have the funds to fight this, where are we going to get that kind of money?” rumbles Sans’ voice. 

“Unfortunately, as we are not official citizens yet, the local circuit is unlikely to view us favorably,” floats in a hazy voice, as if someone had poured water on hot coals and tried to autotune it. “We must act as if they will not follow their own laws, and may fail to provide a defense -” Then a sound like a clink on glass. 

“Careful - ah, thank you so much, Sans,” Toriel’s voice interrupts. 

“Pops, you're gonna need to watch your hands.”

“My apologies.”

Toriel sighs, a weary sound. “I am upset as well, but from what I have read that will actually undermine us in court.” Frisk’s breath catches. _Court?_

“Heard that.” In a flash of blue light, Sans appears before them, meeting their fearful eyes with a relaxed pair. They can read his tells by now, though. It's in the size of his pinprick eyes, the way his teeth are slightly set off-edge - he's furious. But not with them. “Kiddo, weren't you playing a game with my bro? And yours? They're waiting on you, aren't they?”

Frisk scratches at the back of their head; it's something they picked up from him, once upon a time. **Chara can have all my money; she's nearly won it all anyway.**

He chuckles. “That's pretty generous of you. Then, if you don't mind, why not tell them and head on in?” he offers, gesturing at the kitchen. He knows they won't give up on listening in; it's obvious he thinks they may as well let the adults know who else they're talking to.

Frisk smiles and nods, and returns to the playroom where Asriel is now also out. 

“Frisk, it's your -”

**I have suffered an unfortunate accident -** Papyrus covers his mouth in horror and lets out a dramatic gasp worthy of Mettaton - **and bequeath all of my possessions to Asriel in my will** , Frisk announces. They stage a fall backward for emphasis. 

Chara lets out an overly dramatic “No _fair!_ ” and Asriel stands and bows. 

“I will hold the most grandiose of funerals in your honor!”

Frisk giggles and waves them off from the floor, then pushes themself up and heads to the kitchen. 

Toriel and Gaster are waiting for them with disapproving looks, Toriel’s significantly gentler. Sans just looks casual as always, giving them a grin that says, _That's not what you said you'd do._

“So shall we start where we left off?” he suggests. 

“I object.” As Gaster speaks, his hands gesture at a near-blur, forming symbols Frisk is utterly unfamiliar with. Worse, there are at least four floating in the air and each one is making a different sign at once. “This is a matter of setting a precedent for the local legal system which, need I remind you, will affect all monsters in the foreseeable future.” His hands nearly distract Frisk from his words - they're drifting all over the place, starting the next sign from the endpoint of the previous and with no arms to tether them. Actually, the two attached to his arms are folded neatly in front of him. “As the self-proclaimed Ambassador, this child's actions will hold a particular weight if we allow them to become involved -”

“That's enough,” _Sans_ says.

“- and I doubt the weight will be as strong when beneficial as when detrimental,” he finishes. 

“We've all accepted them as our Ambassador,” Sans says, “even our King has. We have reason to trust them.” It sounds like well-trodden ground. 

“This is not about _trust_ right now!” the old scientist yells, and a clatter comes from the playroom. Toriel lays her hand on his arm. He sighs, floating hands withdrawing. “This country enjoys applying its laws unequally. They have stringent _child labor_ laws, as well.” He pauses a moment as that sinks in. Frisk feels their shoulders rise to their ears, and they struggle to force them down again. “We should avoid handing the prosecution as much material as possible.”

Toriel notices, and turns to them in concern. Frisk shrinks under her gaze. “I never meant for you to be under this sort of responsibility,” she murmurs. “Would you like, perhaps, to step out while we _talk_ to Gaster?” Her eyes flick back at him with more than a little anger. 

Frisk bites their lip, but shakes their head. **I want to help any way I can. I'll stay out of the way where you need me to.**

Gaster is enraptured by their hands, leaning in to get a closer look. “Child -” he starts, but Toriel silences him with a stem look. She turns back to Frisk, smiling sweetly. 

“That's very kind of you,” she says, and Frisk beams. 

“What did they say?” Gaster asks excitedly. His own hands are jittering with each motion. “I'm unfamiliar with that dialect -”

**You first** , Frisk signs. The adults’ faces fall.

Sans steps forward first, scratching the back of his neck. “kiddo... it’s about Asgore.”

Their throat pulses suddenly, sticking together as if in a vice.

“we’ve been called to court.”

A pressure settles into their ears like deep ocean water. A court case against Asgore. **Is it about the six kids?** Frisk asks. **But they're alive, they can't -**

“‘s not that simple,” Sans mutters. “they have him on assault and imprisonment if the murder charges don't stick, since the SOULs were kept in those jars.”

“ _Sans -_ ” Toriel objects, but he merely gives her a glance that reflects Frisk's own thoughts. _I'm old enough, older than you think. I can handle this._

“Our main concern at the moment is minimizing the political damage to our image,” Gaster adds. “The first monster-related news after our appearance is a trial for six counts of murder of human children. That cannot be allowed to stand or we will make no progress on integration.”

_It's your fault,_ whispers a traitorous voice in the base of Frisk’s mind. _You sent them off on their own to the human camp. Now everyone will suffer for your mistake._

**I can vouch for you** , Frisk signs with shaking fingers. 

A sudden ring from the doorbell interrupts them. 

“Thank you, my child,” Toriel says, and with a pat on their back she directs them to the game room again. She hesitates. “I will not leave you out of this if you would like to be involved, but it would be easier to present a summary once we have finished our discussion, if you don't mind.”

Frisk swallows but nods, and Toriel gives them a final grateful pat before changing direction to go answer the door. As they slip back into the game room, they catch the gruff voice of the newest guest, and it sinks to the soles of their feet. It's the accused. Asgore.

Chara and Asriel of course jump up at the sound, and tumble over the game board to give their dad a hug. Frisk finds themself following suit, arms stretching around all three as they look up into gentle maroon eyes. 

“Howdy,” he says good-naturedly. “Are you three being good for your mother?”

Their breath catches in their throat. _I thought I was. But…_

It lingers over them for the rest of the evening, even after the meeting breaks up for the night, and everyone has said goodbye and Toriel tells them the adults haven't come up with enough to go into detail yet. _But I messed up._


	9. Training, part 1

“I bet you and Momo would get along really well,” Kyouko comments over her Nice Cream.

Frisk looks up at her in question from the shorter swing. **Who?**

“My little sister.” She grins at Frisk. “She’s just like you, too kind.”

Frisk smiles back, waving their hands all bashfully. They’re swinging back and forth gently while Kyouko sits in the higher swing, feet resting on the ground so she can stay still while eating. Frisk has already finished their Nice Cream from the trio they saved from earlier this week. The moon is bright in the sky and there’s a slight chill, but if being in Snowdin didn’t stop them from eating ice cream then why would this? Mami, clearly thinking differently, hasn’t opened hers yet as she leans against the metal support between them. She did thank Frisk for it, though, promising to enjoy it later.

“You’d think she’d have learned not to give everything away, but our sudden fortune -” and here a smirk graces her face before she wipes it away - “is just a bounty of opportunities to her, to hand things out to people. She loves seeing them smile.” Her face goes blank as she realizes she’s left them out. “We, uh, had some hard times. Before,” and she gestures at her ring.

Frisk nods in dawning understanding. It’s a good thing she had the chance to make a wish, then.

“You know, it’s funny,” Mami says, “but I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before. I mean, before last night.” She turns a puzzled look on Frisk. “Were, ah, you in the news?”

Frisk gives her a sheepish smile. **I’m the Monster Ambassador.**

“Oh.” She blinks. “Oh! You’re - you’re _that_ Frisk!”

Kyouko leans at her from her swing, giving her an incredulous look as if to say, _How many ‘Frisk’s can you possibly know?_ Frisk giggles.

She returns Frisk’s sheepishness. “I’m sorry, I guess it’s just that I didn’t really remember your name…”

 **It’s fine.** Frisk begins to sway side-to-side, making lines in the sand beneath their feet. **I’m not involved in many meetings. They think I’m too young.** They pout, then break into a grin as she laughs.

“I see! Well, it’s their loss,” she says politely.

They enjoy the peace and quiet for a minute, soaking in the night’s ambience. The gentle breeze rustles the trees around them. The crickets’ buzzing grows into a crescendo and fades back down. A cloud wisps across the moon overhead, casting a slight shadow over their corner for a moment. Frisk gazes up at the span of constellations. Sans would love to be out tonight with his telescope. There’s a good chance he is. They haven’t made the time to go stargazing with him again, since the first night on the surface. They should really make plans sometime.

“So, what are they like?” Kyouko asks. Their eyes flick back down from the sky to meet hers. She lifts an eyebrow. “What?”

Frisk pauses to think about their response. **They’re people,** they sign eventually. **Each one is different. But they’re very kind. Living together in such cramped spaces for so long tends to lead to that, you know?**

After a second, Kyouko nods. “I know what you mean. It’s the same thing here. Everyone’s careful not to bother each other.” She falls silent, and Frisk can feel the next question creeping up like an errant vine - “What about the stuff in the news, though? They don’t hate us?” The second question was rushed, clearly a cover for what she really wanted to know. _Did they really kill those children and harvest their souls??_

Taking in a deep breath, Frisk hops off their swing to face her. _Don’t lie._ **They were in a desperate situation,** they sign, and watch the girls’ faces twist with horror. **It was a rash, hasty decision made by a grieving king. He’d just lost his son to a human village. He’s had hundreds of years to grow to regret it, and he does.** Frisk steels themself and plows ahead. **When I met him, he forced me into a fight and let me nearly strike him down. He wasn’t trying to kill me. He didn’t believe he deserved mercy or forgiveness.**

That’s not to say that Asgore hasn’t accidentally killed them, with how they’ve stubbornly refused to attack for so many tries, but he never truly intended to murder them. Even in this final timeline, where he hasn't done anything more than attempt to enter combat, he expressed regret for merely posing the dilemma to Frisk rather than taking the choice into his own hands. 

The girls are silent for quite a while. Mami shifts uncomfortably under the weight of this new knowledge. She can’t meet Frisk’s eyes. Finally, she opens her mouth to say something -

“Okay!” Kyouko jumps out of her swing, tossing the empty Nice Cream stick off into the distance. “Let’s get this started.” Mami grimaces off in the direction of the tossed stick, but nods and stretches into the air. 

_Right, we’re going to go train with our weapons._ Neither of them notice Frisk’s growing discomfort. “We should probably move to a more secluded area to train, and meet there from now on. A park is only empty some of the time,” Mami suggests.

Frisk focuses on their shoes. _Relax. It’ll be fine. It won’t move without your will behind it. Kyuubey said so. And you know you won’t go hurting anyone._

“There's a junkyard on the other side of town,” Kyouko suggests. Mami nods in approval and turns to Frisk. 

“Have you traveled by magic yet?” she asks. At their confused expression, she clarifies, “Using your magic to boost your normal abilities, such as jumping. As Kyouko and I did when we first met you. It's a lot of fun!” she encourages. 

**How do I do that?** Frisk follows her to the edge of the park, Kyouko waiting ahead. 

“When you jump, push part of your magic through your feet. It'll feel a bit weird at first, but it's very useful to learn some augmenting magic early on as it all works the same way,” she explains. “Don't worry if it doesn't work at first; it took Kyouko and I several tries each, as well. It's not either of our wish-based magics.”

 **Wish-based?**

“Your wish determines the type of magic you will excel at,” Mami says and pulls the bow from her collar. It whips out into a long yellow ribbon that seems to flow in sync with her hair curls. “Mine is binding magic, and Kyouko’s is illusion magic.”

 **I dunno mine yet,** Frisk signs, somewhat embarrassed. 

“That's alright,” she says, and smiles. “It tends to reveal itself in battle. It will appear for you when you need it.”

“Ready to go yet?” Kyouko asks. 

Mami nods, but looks at Frisk. “Why don't you try first?”

 _Well, I'm on the spot._ Frisk steps up to the sidewalk. _Magic through your feet. Through your feet. Don't worry. It's easy._ They take a breath, then draw on the well of magic. It seems to take a little bit more effort to reach it, today. Coaxing out a string, they thread it into the balls of their feet. It settles there with a warmth not quite like anything they've felt before. 

Taking a few steps back, Frisk steels themself. Then they take a running leap. 

The warmth of their magic flows out like an overturned cup. They only rise enough to be eye-level with the trees but the bottom of their stomach still drops out. They're windmilling their arms as their leap arc passes its zenith and starts dropping back to earth. 

“That's it!” Mami encourages, a bit too early - Frisk’s landing is more of a tumble, their feet are slightly too slow to catch them this time - but they're not hurt. They don't even feel bruised. They're brushing blades of grass out of their hair when Kyouko and Mami land beside them. 

“You'll get this no problem, squirt,” Kyouko says, grinning at them. Even though it's probably more of a projection of her younger sister on them, Frisk can't help but grin back. _I shouldn't assume that anyway._


	10. Training, part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kyouplomacy is never a good idea
> 
> Warning: minor self-harm toward the end of the chapter. Summary at the end if you'd rather not read it.

Mami stands before them with a musket in hand. They’re a little nervous, of course. She exudes an air of flawless control and calm, her experience infused into every facet of her poise. Her gentle smile ties the whole thing together.

“So, Frisk,” she begins, “Am I correct to assume you have some experience fighting?” 

Frisk tries not to let their discomfort with that fact show, and nods.

“Great!” she says. “Show me.”

_Prove to me you are strong enough to survive._

They stumble forward a step, catching themself before they can cry out. _There is no dust in front of me. She’s fine. She’s alive._ Frisk presses a hand to their head, waving off Mami’s question of concern. They let themself shudder, once, and then deliberately shake off the half-memory. They’re not fighting to hurt anyone this time. They’re fighting to _protect_ people from despair… they just need to find a way to avoid killing these ‘witches’. They have infinite tries. It’s their responsibility to do just that.

Frisk grits their teeth. **Well, I’m really good at dodging.**

“Is that all?” Kyouko lets slip, looking sheepish when Frisk glances at her. “I mean, not that that’s not good, you’ll definitely need to dodge, but….”

“But what my partner is trying to say,” Mami interrupts diplomatically, “is that you will need to deal damage against a Witch, or it will eventually maneuver you into a trap. A Witch will not hesitate to attack you. Kyouko and I have both had our fair share of close calls.” Her voice softens. “I don’t want you to face the same risks until I know you can defend yourself.”

Frisk struggles in silence. _There’s no way I’m using that weapon._ It’s not as if they’ve even seen a ‘witch’ yet. Maybe they can just avoid any fighting. Maybe they can use magic some other way that they can trade for the ‘drops’ to prevent them from… running out.

“Alright, let’s see some dodging instead then.” Kyouko steps in between them, lifting her spear. Frisk takes a step back.

“Kyouko! What are you doing?!” Mami yelps, and Kyouko turns a grin on her.

“Sorry, Mami, but they made the wish. They’re going to need to fight. Besides, if they can dodge me, they should have no problem with any Witches, right?” She turns back to Frisk to find them standing straight, facing her head on. They’ve done this before, after all. And they’re determined to prove they don’t need to attack to win.

“Frisk is willing to face you in battle,” Kyuubey announces. Mami turns on it.

“Frisk is a child!”

“That’s not entirely true,” Kyuubey says. Frisk freezes. It glances back at them, and says, “They have far more experience than you’re giving them credit for. They have faced magic in battle, and won, before ever having made a wish.”

Their hands are shaking even as they nod. Sure, Kyuubey is telling the truth, but they hadn’t realized it knew that much about them yet. _Just how long has it been in my head?_

Mami falters. Then she crosses her arms and glares at the pair of them. “If either of you get a scratch on you, this training session is over.”

“Hear you loud and clear!” And Kyouko bolts at them.

They leap over the first swipe of the spear, tumbling beneath the second and tossing themself to the side to avoid the third. They’re hardly winded; Flowey was _much_ worse.

In the background, Mami looks impressed. Kyouko lifts an eyebrow. “No blocking, huh?” And she shudders into _three_ of herself, the clones stepping out from her sides with their own spears. Frisk gulps.

Then they’re trapped in motion, jumping and twirling and dancing aside, heart hammering in their ears, swirls of red filling their vision. Kyouko is ludicrously fast, almost like _someone I didn’t fight NO I didn’t fight him not this time_ and her clones coordinate with her perfectly like her mind is controlling them all at once, like they’re her _bullets_ if she were a monster, and her spears keep them hopping back and forth without a chance to catch their breath. For a split second there is an opening they can use to gain some distance. They dive.

A _fourth_ spearpoint fills their vision.

Everything freezes.

It’s gone oddly dim, bright only where they focus, and the spearpoint has been summoned without a full arm to hold it. It shimmers as light passes through it; in fact, two of the others do, too. The final one, the one behind them which looks the most solid, is coming apart to reveal chain beneath its casing and turning it into a versatile whip.

They’re not sure what’s caused this moment of perfect clarity, here, but it sinks into their mind, _I don’t want to do this anymore._ And the moment stutters.

Frisk falls onto their back from standing upright. Around them, there are no Kyoukos or spears. In fact, there’s just one of her, leaning on her spear several feet away while Mami holds a musket out to block her.

“W...What just happened?” she wheezes.

Kyuubey turns an oddly satisfied glance on Frisk. “I believe we have just discovered your wish magic,” it says.

“Is that what that was?” Mami says, and lowers her musket when it’s clear Kyouko isn’t going to continue the fight.

“Indeed,” the creature says. “That was a localized causality field. And considering your wish, Frisk, you must have given yourself a second chance as well. A do-over spell, if you will.”

 _A do-over._ They want to laugh. It would’ve been great if they’d gotten something a little less redundant, right? Plus it looks like Kyouko can remember exactly what they did. It’s nowhere near as versatile as LOADing. They’re not even sure they’ll find the occasion to use it all that much.

“So, wait.” Kyouko dismisses her spear. “They can ‘do-over’ whatever they want, whenever?”

“Not entirely. I think it’s safe to assume that the more they attempt to redo, and the further back they attempt to go, the more magic it will take,” Kyuubey states. “It could be that certain extents would exhaust them magically. It’s definitely an ability with potential, though.” It looks at them with an unsettling tinge to its eyes. They break eye-contact first.

“Awesome!” Her cry is cut short in the face of Mami’s outrage.

“What did you think you were doing?!” she demands. “Frisk is a _child_ , you can’t throw that much power at them, I don’t think they even realized you were using _illusions -_ ”

“Hey, I was _pushing their limits_ and they were doing _fine!_ ” Kyouko snaps back. “And they would’ve realized if they’d tried to block even once -”

Frisk sits up and stretches. They don’t even feel winded from the sprint match. The do-over spell must restore their state from the point they return to. It’s almost like, like -

Having more than one SAVE file.

They look at their tremorous hands. Sickness coils in their stomach. They could almost expect to look up and see nothing but darkness, hear the deafening rustle of thousands of leaves upon leaves, or an offer to _erase this pointless world_ \- Frisk sucks in a breath and _punches_ themself in the stomach. They curl up and focus on the sensation, force themself to let go of the intrusive memory. _It’s okay. It’s fine. It’s not like that, **I’m** not like that, not anymore._ They tell themself over and over until their breathing approaches a normal rate and it sounds like Mami and Kyouko are just about done arguing. Kyouko’s looking quite repentant by this point. Frisk pushes themself to their feet, attracting the magical girls’ attention.

 **I need to get home,** they sign. They offer a smile. **It’s way past my bedtime. But I’m glad I could have the chance to figure out this magic, in a safe environment.**

The girls look a little perplexed at their wording. Frisk tries not to wince. They know they don’t sound almost twelve. _I sound my age._

“Let us escort you home,” Mami offers. Frisk nods, relieved.

...

Frisk slips into their room through their window, same as last time. They wave a silent goodbye to the magical girls and Kyuubey, and head over to their bed. It’s quiet, a gentle hum of crickets shading the background, and their pajamas are laid out underneath their covers right where they left them.

As they settle into bed, it hits them how little of their summer is left. School will be starting up again in a little over a month, and they’ll be expected to keep up with that. They’d better figure out some sort of arrangement between themself and the other magical girls by then. Something where they don’t ever have to fight. Maybe they can use their do-over magic to help the girls somehow. They could use it to break up fights between humans and monsters, or monster-sympathizers. They had at least been transferred into Toriel’s new school for monsters rather than stay in a human school. They had a feeling they might have had a firsthand experience with some of the anti-monster activists’ kids if they’d stayed in their old school. But then, maybe they could flirt until the kids change their minds; after all, it worked on the monsters....

Frisk drifts off peacefully, their ring fitted warm on their finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Mami tries to train Frisk, but they won't summon their knife, so Kyouko tests their dodging instead. It forces Frisk to use their wish-based magic: a "second chance" spell that reminds them of Flowey's abilities. They start to suffer from intrusive memories and punch themself to clear their mind. (Mami and Kyouko are busy arguing and end up missing it.) They go home without further incident.


	11. Breakfast

Sleep drags at Frisk’s eyes as Asriel and Chara hold up the conversation on their own.

They don’t have much practice going without sleep. There’s got to be another way to meet with Mami and Kyouko, another time, or something.

 _I can always host a telepathic conversation,_ Kyuubey offers from the window, and Frisk jerks out of their chair and lands in a heap on the floor.

“Frisk!” Asriel yelps.

“Hey, feeling alright there?” Chara asks, leaning over to get a better look at them.

Frisk scratches the back of their head. That, and their knee, hurt where they collided with the table and the floor, respectively. **Sorry, just - I dunno.** It’s embarrassing, to have no reason on hand (ha) to react that way. _Kyuubey, what are you doing here, right now?_

 _I just stopped by to visit. You’re right, you should have some other, more convenient time to meet with them, or this could impair you in a fight. Oh, sorry,_ it sends when Frisk responds to ‘a fight’ with an immediate burst of _rebellion-repugnance-fury_ all in one.

“What do you mean, ‘you dunno’?” Chara jokes. She jumps down to offer them a helping hand up. They smile and take it.

 _You’re going to have to get used to the idea,_ Kyuubey insists. They try their best to not let their disgust show on their face right now. The last thing they want is for Chara or Asriel to notice something’s up and get involved. _Don’t worry about them, worry about yourself. In addition to the regular drain, your magic took a hit last night from that localized causality field spell. You’re going to need to think about restoring it sooner rather than later._

Frisk shuts it out to the best of their ability and focuses on Chara. She’s frowning.

“Hey, partner… You’re looking a little worse for wear. Anything wake you up last night?”

She’s too close to the truth for comfort. Frisk manages a smile and frees their hand. **Bit of a nightmare. Thought I saw something in my cereal is all.**

Her eyes go wide. “For real?” she sporfles. She’s a kid, she can’t help but laugh, but the spark of indignation grounds them to the present and they hold on tight. “And it damaged you?” Frisk’s SOUL gives a little jolt - they’d sustained damage? _When?_ “What was it - a terrifying, sugary part of a balanced breakfast?”

“Charaaa, don’t be mean!” Asriel scolds, still perched in his seat. He shoves a spoonful of fruit loops into his mouth for emphasis. “Tmmph mphrhfn ntnnhphm!”

She cackles, and starts waving her arms around dramatically. “Wait, lemme guess - it was the God of Hyperdeath, right? It declared war on your breakfast empire -” Frisk punches her arm playfully and she flails, knocking her chair off-balance. The pair watch in horror as it topples sideways into the table, taking her glass of orange juice with it to the floor. The clatter of wood, shatter of glass and splatter of juice echo through the whole house.

“ _Children!_ ” They glance at each other and bolt, sprinting straight through the house for Frisk’s room. The door slams behind them and they fall against it, giggling helplessly.

 **We are so screwed.** Frisk can’t stop laughing. It’s like a laughter feedback loop - it’s funny how hard they’re laughing and every time they realize their shaking intensifies. It’s probably due at least in part to their lack of sleep.

“Shh!” Chara hisses, laughing enough that it’s totally pointless and besides, they slammed the door, how could she possibly not know where they are? “ _Shh,_ stop laughing so loud!”

Their laugh is completely silent. Frisk clutches their stomach and doubles over, practically crying.

“H-holy hell, calm down,” she manages through her own grin, “Are you okay??”

There is a series of progressively louder stomps up to their door, followed by a pause and a polite rap on the wood. They fall quiet, hold perfectly still.

“Chara? Frisk? Would you mind coming out for a moment?” Toriel asks sweetly through the wood.

They grin at each other. _We are so dead._

The knob turns, ever so slowly.

Before she can open it, Chara rips open the door and darts past their mom - or tries to, but Toriel’s faster than that and with one arm caught her on her way out. “I don’t think so, missy,” she mutters. She focuses a Level Three Mom Stare on Frisk. “Why don’t you come back out and finish your breakfast.”

Frisk puts on their best impression of an innocent, yet repentant, child. **Yes, Mom itwasChara’sfault -** they sign as fast as they can manage.

Chara gasps from her vantage point. “Traitor! You punched me!”

**Because you were teasing me -**

“Because you fell out of _your chair!_ ”

“Enough,” Toriel states. “There should never have been roughhousing at the table in the first place. Now, I am going to clean up the mess, since there’s glass in it. But you cannot go breaking dishes!” Setting Chara down, she asks, “Did either of you step in the glass?”

They shake their heads, but Toriel focuses suddenly on Frisk. She kneels and orders, “Frisk, sit down and show me your feet.”

Frisk obliges. They’re biting the insides of their cheeks the entire time she’s inspecting them for any cuts. _Did I take damage from Kyouko? No, I think I dodged all of her attacks. I never felt any pain. Then… did hitting my stomach do this?_ They wouldn’t have thought so, but Toriel was looking increasingly confused. Resigning themself, they lift their shirt to check.

“My child!” There’s a light bruise on their stomach. They can’t help but flinch at the sight of it. It shouldn’t have hurt them _that_ much. “How did this…”

 **I had a nightmare,** Frisk lies. **Got up for water but bumped into the edge of my dresser.** A part of their mind is uneasy with how easily the lie springs from their hands.

Toriel casts healing magic over it, fixing them up in a few seconds. Behind her, Chara lingers with a strange expression. When their eyes meet, hers narrow. Frisk breaks eye-contact.

“Are you…” Toriel hesitates. “Are you feeling better now, Frisk?”

They double-check their stomach to make sure it’s all gone. Then they smile and nod at her. **Great, thank you!**

“Anytime, just - come see me sooner, when you get hurt, alright?” she presses. “There’s no need to hide this sort of thing from me.”

Frisk nods again, but inwardly they're nervous. There’s got to be some way they can avoid coming home with bruises from magical girl training; their ‘nightmares’ story won’t hold up in the long-term.

Toriel still looks concerned, but takes Frisk and Chara back into the kitchen and hands Asriel a pair of slippers so he can safely navigate the mess. They both help clean up by using paper towels to soak up the juice while Toriel picks up the glass, and Chara does look a little embarrassed she broke a dish. With everything calmed down again, Frisk has time to wonder if Kyuubey was spotted by anyone. It’s been silent since it gave its warning, and perhaps it’s about time to act on its suggestion to confront the problem.


	12. On their terms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just replaced the last chapter with an actual chapter instead of an update, so please read that first if you haven't yet. This one will be a little short. The one after this may take a bit longer to post; the scene just goes _on_ and _on_... but it's worth it I promise!

Frisk slips back to their room at the first sign Chara was thoroughly engrossed in something distracting - a video game, this time - and shuts and locks their door behind them. They also make sure their window is locked and shut the curtains. They can’t take any chances that someone might see them like this.

Once they’re ready, they slip the ring off their finger and transform it to its egg shape. A moment later, they’ve transformed into their magical dress.

This is the step that bothered them. They’d known it would, but still…

They close their eyes. It helps, a little.

Frisk holds their hand out and equips their weapon.

The weight is there. The grip feels molded to their hand, conforming with the minuscule changes in pressure as they shift their grip, again and again. They peek open one eye.

No, they don’t. They tried to, but they don’t.

No one is here. There’s no one they could hurt. There’s no one to see it.

It belongs to them and they’re going to have to face this at some point anyway. Better now than in the face of a ‘witch’.

Their eyes are screwed shut, almost painfully so, and Frisk consciously slows their breathing with the rhythm of their heartbeat - in for 3, hold 3, out 5, 3, 3, 5, 3 3 5 until their heart has slowed to something manageable. Guilt’s claws are still buried in their spine. That’s okay. They’ll probably be there forever anyway. Can’t let that stop them.

This time, when Frisk tries to peek at it, their eyes obey.

The knife looks no different than it did that night. Still serrated, still inscribed with swirling patterns of red that draw the eye in, although at the moment they can’t make out the smile they thought they saw. That’s good. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or their mind. 

At least it doesn’t look _worse._

Frisk sits down on their bed, holding the knife out from themself like Toriel tells them to. She hasn’t let any of them try slicing vegetables for a meal yet, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t pointed out the correct ways to hold a knife. Frisk never planned on cutting anything up for dinner anyway. Eventually, they start to look closer at it, to turn it around and examine it. It feels almost like an extension of their arm with how it moves. They can tell where it is in the same way they can tell where a foot is, and it seems to move with their intention as well as actual handling. That’s good. They’ll never intend to hurt anyone _ever again_ so they should be fine.

A knock at their door startles them, vanishing the knife into… wherever weapons go when they’re not in use. Into their SOUL, most likely.

“Frisk!!” It’s Asriel’s voice. “Frisk Frisk Frisk come look! Hurry!!”

They transform back in a rush and pocket the ring before opening the door.

Asriel pauses. “Dark in here, huh?” he says before seizing Frisk’s wrist and dragging them to the living room. “Look look look, Chara found a thing!” He leans in on Chara’s other side.

 **Found what?** they ask once their hand is free again.

“Only the rarest Pokemon ever!” Chara proudly holds up their console. There’s some sort of red-and-white long-necked bird… not-bird… thing. With tiny arms. And feet.

 **L-A-T-I-A-S?** Frisk spells out, unsure how else to sign that.

“Yeah, it’s _super_ rare!” Chara turns back to her game with a wide grin on her face. “And _I’m_ gonna catch it!”

“Go, Chara!” Asriel cheers. “Best Pokemon catcher ever!”

Frisk smiles and sits back, as Chara calls out the name of her Pokemon and its attack -

“What?!” she yelps. Slowly, she stands, head down.

“What? What is it?” Asriel asks. “You didn’t knock it out, did you?”

“No, it… it…” She casts a dejected look over her shoulder. “It ran away.”

“ _What?!_ ” 

Frisk has almost no idea how the game works, but that doesn’t mean they can’t play along. At least it’s a welcome distraction from the strange magical steel in their SOUL.


	13. Try to relax

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here have some fluff
> 
> (their names are not conjured out of nothing)

_If you can arrange to head to the park today, Kyouko could meet you formally,_ Kyuubey suggested. It sounded like a good idea at the time.

So here they are, setting up a nice picnic on a blanket with Asriel, Chara, Toriel, Sans and Papyrus. Gaster and Asgore couldn’t come, having a meeting scheduled with some humans who might be able to help.

It’s a cloudless day, bright and warm with a slight breeze ruffling the treetops affectionately. There are juice boxes and half sandwiches and cheese crackers and pie, and the family has set up within walking distance of the Nice Cream stand if they later feel like having cold sweet treats instead. The park is hosting a few other groups, not enough to feel crowded but plenty to cultivate the air of enjoying life its fading paint once tried to suggest. Among the kids are several around Frisk’s age, sporting the vibrantly colored clothes adults seemed to eschew for no reason.

Asriel tugs at their sleeve, pointing ecstatically at the jungle gym. “Come on, Frisk, Chara! Let’s go!”

Frisk allows themself to be tugged along, and by the time Chara’s caught up with the two of them, they’re perched on the highest bars Asriel could find.

“Can’t catch us!”

Chara’s eyes glint from the challenge. “Says who?”

And then she’s scrambling up the bars before Asriel jumps down, sustaining a bout of giggling. She lets out a snarl and makes to follow him, and Frisk sees their chance. Hooking their legs around their bar, they throw themself out to catch her ankles as she leaps. Their hands latch on and her jump is arrested, leaving them dangling upside-down and swinging like a pendulum while she flails to free herself and Asriel makes off like a bandit.

And this is how Kyouko and Momo find them.

“Oh my gosh.”

Frisk makes eye contact with the magical girl, dressed in a simple blue shirt and pair of jeans. They shrug.

“Aarghh, lemme go!” Chara punctuates her demand with a freed foot and a calculated kick to their shoulder. It’s too light to hurt. They drop her anyway.

Chara lands on her face, hands just barely breaking her fall first. She grumbles up at them. “Jerk. Don’t recall you making a deal with _Azzy._ ”

 **Not with you either,** Frisk signs back. Chara sticks her tongue out.

“Heehee,” the younger sister can’t help herself from. She wanders up to offer Chara a hand. “I’m Momo. What’s your name?”

“...Chara.” She doesn’t look particularly pleased, but to be fair, not really upset at this either. After a second, she takes the proffered hand and stands. “So, did you, uh, see a white-furred monster kid running away from here?”

“Mhmm!” She nods enthusiastically.

“That your friend?” Kyouko asks, and instantly withers under the glare Chara shoots at her. “What? Oh, uh, I’m Kyouko. Nice to meet you.”

“He’s my brother.” Chara frees her hand and turns entirely to Momo, face softening. “His name’s Asriel. Likes to pretend he’s the fastest thing on the playground.” Her expression turns sly. “Wanna help me prove him wrong?”

Momo gasps. “He went that way!” she yells, pointing and totally giving him away. Peeking out from behind a tree, Asriel abandons cover and runs for it. The pair sprint after him.

“Wow,” Kyouko says, watching them go. Frisk pulls themself upright before dropping to the ground. “She’s… kind of a jerk. What’s her problem?”

 **I don’t know why she doesn’t like you,** Frisk admits diplomatically, **but she’s my sister. She can be a bit hard-headed at first, but she's nice underneath.**

“Ah. Gotcha.” They wait around for a moment. Now that they’ve actually ‘met’, it feels a bit awkward to be so far apart age-wise. “Wanna go meet my family?” Kyouko suggests. Frisk nods.

Her family has set up lunch at one of the park tables. Her mother has the same deep red hair she does, while her father’s hair is more brown. They’re both dressed modestly, more fitting for a high-class restaurant than a picnic, yet something about them suggests they’ve never actually set foot in one. They offer polite smiles.

“And who’s this?” her mother asks.

“This is Frisk.” Frisk signs hello and smiles. The parents look a little lost, but at least they’re not putting down signing outright. “They’re a friend of m-Momo’s,” Kyouko saves. “But she and Frisk’s sister, Chara, ran off on their own game for now.”

“How nice! Is Frisk’s family here too?”

“Uh -” For a moment, Kyouko is a bit lost as well, looking around before Frisk can point her in the right direction. Her parents follow their signals.

When they realize they’re looking at a monster family, they don’t appear to react. Frisk waits, nerves running. There’s no reason their reaction should mean anything, but Frisk is nervous all the same.

“Oh, so you’re adopted?” the father asks, turning back to them and smiling.

 _Phew._ Frisk nods with probably a little more energy than is necessary.

He returns their relief in his own expression. “I’m glad the agencies are being fair about that, at least.”

“Takashi!” the mother scolds, but with her own smile. “Don’t be rude!”

“But with that other business -”

“Not at the lunch table!” She turns to them. “Don’t mind my husband, he’s always like that - a regular social activist.”

“You love me, though, Kikuko.”

Kyouko’s grinning at them both fondly. “You’ll have to drop by our church sometime,” she offers Frisk. “I think you’d like it.”

 **If you want,** Frisk signs as Takashi hurries to interject, “I promise I’m not paying her to say that -”

“Mamaaa!” Momo is racing back to the table and giggling hysterically, with Chara close behind and Asriel a bit further off, laughing dramatically and maniacally to himself. He appears to be showered by… stars?

 _Not_ **_magic_ ** _-_ Frisk runs out to stop him but Chara tackles them to the ground, also laughing maniacally.

“Thought you could escape the consequences of betraying _me?!_ ” She lifts her head and bellows, “ _Azzy, over here!_ ”

 **Let me up!** Frisk manages to shove her off and stumble to their feet before she latches onto their ankles in a fit of cruel irony. They have a second to get their bearings and push their hands out in front to shield themself before Asriel trucks straight into them with a _POMF._  They go flying.

And stay flying. Frisk opens their eyes to see everything in an unpleasantly familiar blue haze. They shove _that_ memory away, though.

“Uncle Sans! Put us down!”

“you kids should be more careful.” But he obliges.

When they’re all safely on the ground and Chara and Momo have begun a game of tag around him, he turns his head to the rest of the family, who are unabashedly watching the whole thing. “so, uh. hey.”

Introductions proceed pretty smoothly after that. Toriel and Papyrus head over with their picnic stuff and it seems to hit Kyouko’s parents that they’re speaking to former monster _royalty,_  but that’s brushed over pretty quickly and soon they’re talking news and politics and recipes - Takashi and Kikuko turn out to split the cooking relatively evenly, and he made the casserole they brought, while she made the dessert pastries. Frisk couldn’t have hoped for a better meeting.

They hang out by Kyouko despite Chara’s occasional glare in that direction, and munch half a sandwich they’ve split with her while she separates a serving of casserole for them.

“Your family’s really cool,” she comments, and sets the mini plate down in front of them.

 **Thanks, yours is too,** Frisk replies. **To be honest I was a bit afraid they might not take this so well.**

She grins. “You’ve got nothing to worry about with _my_ dad around.” She tucks into the sandwich. It’s gone in two bites. “Sho,” Kyouko manages through a mouthful, “Ih’m ghlad, uh. Everyone’s getting along.” She looks a little embarrassed at her non-sequitur.

Frisk nods along, more to set her at ease. They try the casserole, squeaking when the flavor hits them.

Kyouko starts laughing, trying valiantly to muffle it behind both of her hands. “You think that’s good? Try Mom’s apple strudels. They’re to _die_ for.” She shakes her head. Unbeknownst to her, some of her hair brushes the top of Toriel’s pie and comes away sticky.

Frisk raises their hands to warn her, but suddenly there’s a skeletal hand on their shoulder. “hey, kiddo,” Sans starts, “mind following me for a sec’?”

They blink, but nod. Jumping down, they sign, **I’ll be right back** at Kyouko. When they turn around, their duncle has already turned his back on the group and is heading off.

Sans leads them over to the swing set, far enough away that they’re out of earshot. There was a young girl with short green hair swinging, but when she saw him coming she took off. Frisk grimaces at that; even if they expected it, it still hurt to see.

Sans slows his pace to let the girl gain some distance. When they get to the empty swing set, he takes a seat in one and heaves a sigh. Frisk twiddles their fingers behind their back. Did they do something?

“sure know how to pick ‘em, don’tcha,” he says.

Frisk frees their hands. **What?**

“the girl you were hanging with. ‘d you just meet her?” He meets their eyes. His pupils are dimmer than normal.

 _Can’t lie._ Not to Sans. **I already knew her,** Frisk signs.

“from where?”

 _Can’t tell the truth._ They’d be in so much trouble, going out at night. **Ran into her a week or so ago,** they sign. **She hangs around the city.**

“hn.” He scrutinizes them - the same look from the judgment hall. “listen kid, not really my business to tell you who to hang out with, but tori’d be pretty upset with me if i didn’t speak up and anything happened to you.” His pupils grow bright for a moment, and flicker out. “she’s bad news. trust me on this one.”

Frisk’s heart is pounding. They’d hoped to never again see that look, and especially not be receiving it. **W-What did she do,** they manage to ask.

“it’s... not anything a kid should have to worry about.”

A shriek and a separate burst of laughter from the table alerts them that Kyouko found the pie topping in her hair. Her parents are grinning, giving her a hard time while she splutters, from the looks of it.

Sans stands up from the swing, walking past them and pausing only to pat their shoulder. “just... be careful.”

And he’s strolling back to the combined families’ picnic, probably wearing the same smile as always, while they hang back and shiver. So. Kyouko has LOVE.

_Frisk?_

They jump. _Who’s that?_

 _It’s alright, just me._ Kyouko waves at them from the table. They hesitantly wave back. _Kyuubey can support telepathy between us magical girls, remember?_

 _I forgot._ They lower their hand. She doesn't seem like someone who would have LOVE. She's outgoing, caring. Obviously a good sister. They scuff their foot in the sand.

_What’s wrong? What did he say?_

Frisk flinches. They figure they should start heading back now, but they’re understandably a bit freaked out. _...Nothing to worry about,_  they find themself lying. How are they supposed to explain about LOVE to a human? They aren't even supposed to know much about it, in this timeline.  _He’s always been protective. Just a bit worried I’m making friends with someone so much older than me._ It’s puzzling that they even _can_ lie mentally, but telepathy doesn’t seem to follow the same rules as normal thought.

 _Ah, okay._ She pauses. _You should probably come back. Your mom’s worried about you._

 _Thanks,_ they send. They know Sans would worry about them, but they can take care of themself. They can RESET, after all. They head over to the picnic.

_Out of curiosity, how long have you gone without cleaning your gem?_

_Do you mean my ring? I’ve had it for a couple weeks now,_ they reply, taking a seat at the table.

 _And you haven’t cleaned it once?!_ She shoots them a look right in the middle of Toriel making a really bad pun. Luckily no one seems to notice her. _You should come with us on a hunt. Tonight._

 _Tonight?_ Their throat constricts. _But -_

 _It’s dangerous to wait any longer,_ she says, and that was that.


	14. The Duty of a Magical Girl, part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: attempted suicide by NPC. Most of that section is Frisk learning about Witches. That scene ends at the break.

They wind their hands in their dress hem.

It’s cold out, and windy, and the moon’s waning so there’s not much light left to reach them in the alleyway after filtering through the thick clumps of cloud. There's enough light pollution to block out the stars, but not enough to help illuminate the streets. They feel oddly paranoid. It's not a safe time of night, or a safe area. But the other magical girls don't seem concerned at all.

Kyouko and Mami hold their gems out in front of them in egg-form. “Right,” Mami says, “Let’s get going.”

As they stalk the city, Mami explains how she uses her gem to dowse for ‘witches’, and how she prioritizes areas where suffering tends to accumulate. Kyouko interjects on occasion with a tidbit of advice, such as how missing persons reports are often the work of a ‘witch’, and how to avoid getting surrounded by ‘familiars’ in a ‘labyrinth’ and how to keep track of the ‘barrier’ and that they should target the ‘grief seed’ for maximum damage. Frisk’s head was reeling with the overload of unfamiliar (heh) terminology. _Apparently not enough to miss that one, but then, that’s credit to Sans, isn’t it?_

They do manage to think of one question, though. **Why is it called a Witch?**

The girls’ shared monologue stops. “Hmm,” Kyouko murmurs, “You know, I don’t know. It’s just what Kyuubey called them.”

“Well,” Mami starts, “Maybe they’re called that because they use magic for evil. And we’re ‘magical girls’ because we use magic for good.”

“That, and they’re murdering eldritch abominations,” Kyouko adds. Mami nods.

The trio picks up the sound of an approaching car and darts behind a building. Once it’s long gone, they come out.

“I haven’t had any problems with being stopped before, but we’d rather not be asked any awkward questions,” Mami explains, a little flustered. Frisk nods. They’d rather not be caught out here either.

“I’m _dead_ if my dad hears about this,” Kyouko mutters. She scowls at Mami’s, ‘That’s because he cares about you’.

They go on tracking, following more alleyways than roads. Most businesses are closed but there are still a few they need to backtrack to avoid. It seems odd to Frisk that they haven’t run into any other people yet. They would think this city large enough to have some sort of night crime, but it’s quiet. Gradually, their surroundings shift from businesses to construction - more places where people who don’t want to be found would go.

“It’s near,” Mami says suddenly. Kyouko summons her spear.

They round the corner of an unfinished building, and there it is.

Mere feet away from them stretches a pulsating fluorescent film that ripples with strange inky symbols. A sound arises from it that sets the hair on their neck standing up and their shoulders rising. It’s almost like grand-uncle Gaster’s speech, but discordant and fluctuating like synthesized vibrato. They couldn’t imitate it if they tried.

Behind it and a few feet to the side, a man facing away from them lifts a gun to his head.

Mami shoots forward and launches an array of ribbons that wrap around the barrel, pulling it out of his grip and tossing it to the side. Before the man can turn around she’s already beside him, pressing her hand to his head. His legs give out.

“You okay?” Kyouko calls. She gives them a thumbs-up and lays him gently on the concrete.

Frisk is shaking with adrenaline. That was _close._ **Who was that?** they ask.

“A Witch’s victim.” Kyouko heads over to him, Frisk following behind. They flinch away from the eerie film as they pass it. Kneeling, Kyouko lifts his head and brushes any hair aside to expose a mark on his skin, pulsing with the same symbols and patterns of the film. “A Witch will target someone like this, who’s not too stable, and leave a Kiss - this mark - on their neck. It affects their thinking, makes them more prone to depression and suicidal thoughts. They feed on their victims' despair, and the despair they cause. The end goal is what we just prevented.”

Setting him down, she points back at the film. Just looking at it sends Frisk’s shoulders up, their entire body tense. “That’s the Witch’s barrier. It’s hiding in there somewhere.” She steps forward and, even as Frisk lunges out to catch her and pull her back from this unearthly conjuration, taps it with her spear.

The symbols dive to either side and a dark center spirals out to open a path for them.

She looks back and catches Frisk leaning out, and misinterprets it. “We’ll leave the man outside, magically asleep. He’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Frisk doesn’t respond. The path glitches and rumbles like a faultline in the very fabric of the world. A wisp brushes their arm and they snap it back; it feels like it’s threatening to unwind them like a loose thread. Even fighting Omega Flowey, they’d never felt magic this _wrong._

Behind them, Mami speaks up. “It’s our job to get rid of these things. As the only ones who can.” Frisk looks back and she meets their eyes. “Normal people can’t see them, or Kyuubey, of course. They would be free to prey on as many people as they could eat, and grow incredibly strong, if we magical girls weren’t around.”

It paints a picture of a hopeless world. _Monsters would be safer underground._

But that’s what Frisk is for, right? To make the world safe for them. As their Ambassador.

And Kyouko steps inside and vanishes, shuddering their train of thought to a halt as their cry after her freezes in their throat. Mami gives them a sympathetic look.

“She’s fine; she knows her way around Witches, after all,” she says, then, “How about this? You keep close to us and you won’t need to fight anything. We’ll take care of it, alright?”

As much as it makes them feel like a child, they nod.

She offers them a winning smile, and turns to step in without a backward glance. “Come on, then. You’ll be fine.”

Frisk steels themself. Every moment they delay is another in which Kyouko is on her own in there. They force a foot forward. They’ve faced worse than this. They’ve _seen the world cease to exist._ This is _nothing._

Mami takes their hand, and together, they step inside.

…

“Frisk?” Their door is locked. Chara scowls.

 _You’d better not be out again, partner. I might actually have to tell someone._ She’s able to get outside without alerting anyone by going through her own window. She steps carefully through the shrub grass, making her way around the corner with as little noise as possible, to find Frisk’s window. She stops. It’s cracked open.

An unpleasant feeling churning in her gut, Chara steps up to the window. She pries it open further and leans in. No one’s home.

She swallows against a dry throat. A few minutes ago, a sensation she couldn’t place had woken her up. It was like… some part of her was missing.

Frisk had never given her their SOUL, in the timeline they seem content to never bring up (and honestly, she’s fine with that so long as they never do anything like that again, humanity may be unsalvageable but Frisk is supposed to be _different_ ), but traveling together so many times through the Underground bound them in a way neither really understood. Of course, she was only realizing this _now,_  since Frisk seems to have vanished off the face of the earth.

She considers waking their mom, telling someone, but the way Frisk was keeping secrets and avoiding her, even hiding out in their room, led her to think it might be something she wouldn’t want fragile monsters involved with. Even if Mom is one of the least fragile she knows, it still doesn’t compare to DeTermination, unfortunately. But what happened to them, that there would be an empty space in their place?

 _Maybe they died._ It settles in her stomach. She doesn’t really recall this sensation from every time Frisk died underground, but then, she was following their SOUL the whole time. This would be the first time it’s happened since they became wholly separate.

It’s just a fact of life up on the surface, after all. Stupid kids sneak out, get killed, and RESET the entire world.

She would have to come up with some choice words for them when they start over.

Chara shakes her head, strikes the ground with her foot once. Maybe twice. Then she dusts herself off, plods back around to her window, and climbs in as slowly as she can stand. They should have RESET by now.

They should have RESET by now.


	15. FIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WITCH TIME.
> 
> Warning: body horror - dislocation. Summary at the end if you'd rather not read it.

The walls of this place look fake. That’s the first thing that registers. They look like someone shaved crayon wax and somehow pasted it onto thin air. The next thing to register is the general sense of unease permeating the air, as it sinks into their skin and sets ripples of gooseflesh off over their entire body.

They’re not sure where the light is coming from, but it’s dim. The sound they could hear from outside is marginally louder, but it’s fluctuating. It vaguely reminds them of something, but they don’t have time to place it before an eyeball opens from the nearest corner in the wall and stares straight at them.

Mami summons a musket and fires before they can blink.

The thing shrieks, its paper-thin humanoid-scribble body peeling away from the wall and turning black as though it’s being burned. The eye closes.

Mami grabs their wrist. “This way,” she says. “And hurry - other Familiars might have heard it.”

She guides them through this place, over drawn-in hills and wax rivers, shooting approaching Familiars as she goes. They range from people to trees to dogs and cats and birds. She doesn’t talk to a single one, doesn’t even let them draw near enough. Sometimes they even try to run away.

It’s too similar. Frisk feels sick. They want to stop, go back.

But in the instant it looked at them, they were hit with a wave of emotion, the same way a monster might use bullets to communicate.

And in its communication was malice.

Even as Frisk harbors second thoughts about mercilessly eradicating the Familiars, they know, with no room for question or doubt, that the Familiar would have tried to kill them. It would have enjoyed it. And it made no effort to hide that fact.

They reach a small city in a valley, crayon drawings of houses populated by citizens of various scribbled colors. The Familiars are converging on the town square, forming a mob around it, while -

“There she is,” Mami says, and lets go of Frisk’s wrist. Frisk stumbles forward.

Mami jumps, two or three stories, in an arc that takes her almost to the square. Slaying the Familiars where she lands, she leaps straight up - and takes hold of a _cloud,_  Frisk hadn’t hardly looked up but there are clouds sketched in too, and this one gives her the perfect vantage point.

Below her, Kyouko is a whirlwind of illusions and spears, ripping at the -

Frisk rubs their eyes, trying to make sense of what they’re seeing.

It’s a mess. A chimera of a dozen different myths, a dragon and a kelpie and a griffin and a thunderbird - shapes leaping out of its scribbled mass to strike at Kyouko, never separating from the main body, falling to pieces under her spear but drawing back into the body and then growing out somewhere else. Its mere appearance gives off the same sense of casual cruelty. It doesn’t appear to be getting tired.

“Kyouko!” Mami yells from her perch. “Clear out!”

Kyouko leaps free of another of its attacks, and what looks like Mami’s entire arsenal of muskets materializes over the creature. As one, they fire into the scribble mass.

The explosion knocks them off their feet.

Frisk rolls backward, arms out to brave themself, skin prickling from where the wax floor touches them. The sounds of fighting resume from below. They manage to stop tumbling, push themself to their feet -

A wax ribbon wraps around their upper arm and _keeps wrapping_.

It's a Familiar, a stork with wings that are unraveling into loops and loops of wax, gripping their arm as its spiral eyes bore into Frisk’s.

Its wing corkscrews down their arm before they can throw themself away from it, and it tightens its grip like a python.

Frisk _screams._

But their voice is hoarse from underuse and the battle is too loud for the girls to hear them. The Familiar hauls them closer and raises its beak.

 _KYUUBEY -_ they yell, reaching for any scrap of telepathy it might have left them.

The beak comes down. They twist out of the way as much as they can and it only scythes through their dress, scratching their front.

Frisk grabs ahold of its neck to keep it from striking again. It begins to thrash.

_Use your weapon!_

_Call the others!_ Frisk begs. Their captive arm is completely numb and the wax end of the ribbon is trying to force their last two fingers apart sideways.

_They're stuck in battle with the Witch! And I can't reach you in time! Defend yourself!!_

The wing yanks them away from the Familiar’s body, freeing its head for another strike. It whips them against the ground. Something in their hand slips into the wrong place. Before they can react, the wing whips them up and to the side, into a fake tree. It doesn't feel fake.

_FRISK!!_

The knife is in their other hand. It won't let itself be dropped.

They're whipped to the side again and they _refuse,_  magic seeping out around them to freeze them and the Familiar in place. They reach back to when it first grabbed ahold of them. Black spots dance behind their eyes. They reach for the moment it first whipped them around instead, pushing them both back to their positions. The knife pops into their free hand.

 _It won't kill._ Frisk draws the knife against the strap wrapped around their arm.

The Familiar screeches in pain as its wax shreds. The last thin connection tightens it, and their pinky dislocates with a _pop_ that fills their throat with bile. The Familiar dances back as they stumble, trying their best to keep their hand from further harm.

The instant they get a spare second, they tug the rest of the hardening wax off. In its place, their arm is red and tender, probably bruised. Their hand shoots white-hot pain straight up their arm when they touch it. It sets their ears ringing and their stomach churning.

 _Block it,_ Kyuubey says,

_How?!_

_Disconnect from it. Magical girls can turn off pain._

This would have been nice to practice earlier, but they don’t have any more time to focus on it. From a distance away, the stork-thing leans back on one leg and kicks out, foot unraveling into a spring that barely misses them. But this is just dodging. Dodging they can do.

It withdraws and kicks out, again and again, keeping its distance as Frisk jumps from one point to the next, holding their injured arm by the wrist. They're not sure how to Spare this one. They're not sure if they can. It's not talking.

They fall back on their old standby. Stopping for a moment, they strike a flirty pose and wink.

The Familiar stills. It cocks its head, eyes swirling in a slow whirlpool of wax. It opens its beak.

_Murderer._

Frisk jolts.

It stalks closer, slow, careful. _You're irredeemable._ _You'll never make up for it. All of your efforts are worthless._ It's speaking in  _their own voice._

 _No - I -_ Frisk shakes their head, leaps out of the way of another kick. How would it know? How  _does_ it know??  _I'm in the Pacifist timeline. I'm doing okay._

 **_You don't get credit for cleaning up your own mess,_ ** the Familiar snarls. Its foot wraps around their leg.

Frisk strikes down without thinking.

The foot shreds under their blade and the Familiar is left shrieking, unable to speak. They dart away.

 **_Coward,_ ** it screams after them. **_You're not above consequences. Come back here and pay for your sins!_ **

It's voice doesn't seem any softer no matter how far Frisk runs. Other Familiars are peeling from the ground now, and  Frisk is dashing around the creatures, clutching their damaged arm to their chest, half-curled over it as each step sends needles up their hand.

**_Did you think you could forget? That you could just wish it all away? That starting over meant you had never done anything wrong?_ **

They can't stop to answer, can't form a coherent thought. Something hot slips down one cheek, then the other, they can't deal with this right now, it's hard enough running without _this_ blurring their vision and stuttering their breath. Familiars have begun lashing out at them, making them jump to avoid tripping, being seized, being _crushed -_

“Frisk!” A salvo breaks up the scribbles crowding them. Their unearthly cries are cut short by the whip of a metal chain, staff segments thrashing them to pieces.

They hunch over, cradling their arm and falling to their knees. It’s hard to catch their breath. Every heartbeat sends another pulse of pain through the abused fingers. Kyouko lands by their side.

“You okay?” She catches sight of their hand. “Holy -”

 _Frisk refused to fight back, so they were badly injured,_ Kyuubey says.

“What?” She almost turns an incredulous look on them, but it shifts back into alarm before they can register much more than a faint feeling of shame. Kyouko kneels. “Hold out your hand,” she commands. “I’m not the best at healing but I’ll do what I can.”

“Kyouko, what are you -” Mami gets out, landing beside them, before seeing the damage. She sets up a ring of muskets around them instead.

Frisk only watches as the finger gently moves back into place, the swelling decreasing, the bruising clearing up. Kyouko stops when they can safely flex their hand and use their arm again; there’s still a bit of bruising, but nothing they can’t handle.

 **D-Did you kill it?** Frisk asks.

Kyouko winks. “Just about. Let Mami and me handle the rest of this, okay? You stay out of danger.”

Frisk hesitates.

Mami’s ring of muskets goes off, each replaced by a new one the next second. It creates an ongoing thunder that draws Kyouko back into the fight. Frisk is left standing in the center, only watching.

Mami and Kyouko raze the group of Familiars until there’s nothing left but black ash. When they turn on the Witch, Frisk can almost see their LV go up.

And there’s nothing they can do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Frisk and Mami travel through the Labyrinth to find the Witch. Mami takes care of the Familiars along the way, and even though they can feel the hatred coming from the Familiars, the whole process reminds Frisk too much of the Bad Time timeline for them to join in. Once they find the Witch, Frisk stays back while Mami and Kyouko fight it. While Frisk is alone, a Familiar attacks them. Frisk at first won't defend themself, then uses their second-chance magic and their knife to get free without killing it. When they try to confront it non-violently, it suddenly accuses them of being a murderer, and scares them into running mindlessly. Other Familiars join the attack, forcing Mami and Kyouko to come rescue Frisk. Kyouko heals them, and the two return to the Witch, leaving Frisk conflicted about the whole magical girl system.  
> ...
> 
> So, should the rating still be T or should it increase? I'm not too familiar with the rating system.


	16. You Won!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: briefly alludes to suicidal thoughts.

They regroup once the barrier fades. Neither girl is injured. They’ve clearly been at this a long time.

Mami shows Frisk a small dark bauble, a sphere that tapers into points and is elegantly carved.

“This is a Grief Seed,” she says.

Kyuubey emerges from around a pillar; he’d been outside during the whole fight. “That’s what I called a Witch’s drop,” he explains. Frisk nods.

She demonstrates with her own gem, holding it close enough to the Seed that the darkness accrued inside of it is drawn off and into the drop. Kyouko clears hers next. When they turn to Frisk, Frisk steps back. They’re shaking.

_I d-- d-don’t deserve -_

“Something wrong?” Kyouko asks.

They can’t bring themself to look up. **Do Familiars have telepathy?**

“Oh, hell.” Kyouko drops to her knees in front of them, hands on their shoulders, “No, no they don’t. They just spit despair, it’s part of their magic, alright? It didn’t actually _talk_ to you.”

 **B-But it said - it** **_knew -_ **

“Witches don't know anything,” Mami asserts. She steps around Kyouko to hug Frisk from the side. “Like Kyouko said, they just attack with despair and your mind fills in the rest.  They use your fears to lie to you. You're going to be alright, Frisk. You did good.” She rubs their back, gentle, soothing.

 **I --** They’re sick and tired of their hands shaking and it’s not helping now, when they’ve got so much to heal. **I d-didn’t do** **_anything._** _At least not anything good. After all, how could I? I still struck it. I still hurt it._ Their hands curl into fists and they can’t sign anything more. Their head drops.

“Mami, their Soul Gem,” Kyouko warns. Before Frisk can react to the name, Kyouko seizes it from their dress. It’s dark, swirling with so much corruption it looks like their magic is trying to shine through blood. Mami presses the Seed to it.

All at once, a pressure they didn’t know they carried eases off them. Their joints ease up, sore from being held so rigidly. They take one deep breath, then another. It’s not so hard to think of going home now, or at least, it hurts less than the alternative.

But before it can clear up entirely, Kyuubey steps in. “That Seed is full,” it reports. Mami hands it to him and he tosses it into a sudden hole in his back. Before Frisk’s frightened eyes, it reforms into the egg pattern they’d seen before.

It turns to them. “If I don’t dispose of filled Grief Seeds, they could hatch into a more powerful Witch. It’s important that you give any filled Grief Seeds to me, or you may find yourself out of your depth.”

But their gem isn’t clean. Their - _soul_ gem? Frisk takes another look at it. It’s odd Kyuubey didn’t call it by that name when they first met.

 **Kyuubey,** they start (and they’re glad their hands have relaxed enough to sign again, but there’s still a bit of darkness swirling around in there), **did you -**

“We can talk further once you’re home safe,” it interrupts. “For now, please get some rest. You can go hunting again tomorrow.”

They freeze, then manage to move their hands just enough to sign, **I don’t want to fight another Witch. Ever again.** They’re burdened with shame at themself - the magical girls will slaughter Witches without anyone to tell them otherwise (but maybe Kyuubey’s right, maybe they can’t be saved and just need to be _stopped_ but that line of thinking hurts too, there has to be _something_ ) - but this one wasn’t even that strong, and its _Familiar_ did this. Frisk never even faced the Witch itself. To face something that could use your worst fears against you in the middle of the fight… how do these girls do it?

Kyuubey turns its unblinking eyes on them.  “You would leave these alive to find your monster friends?” it asks.

Their gut drops.

“You heard what they said to you,” Kyuubey says. “You know how much damage a hateful word can do to a monster. And you would leave Witches for other magical girls to take out, since you can’t stand to fight? That’s childish.”

“Kyuubey,” Mami warns, her tone darkening.

Kyuubey’s eyes flick to her for a moment, then turn back to Frisk. “And I think you know why it’s wrong for you to act that way,” it finishes.

 _Because I’m not a child._ They know. They know, but they hate it, they hate _this._  They’re supposed to be different. They’re not supposed to FIGHT.

Kyuubey flicks its tail. “It’s your choice whether you leave them to die or not,” it says, and scampers off. Mami’s outraged cry rises behind it.

Frisk winds their dress hem around their fingers, flinching when it presses on the sore spots. It’s not entirely healed. Toriel is going to pitch a fit. They knead the hem unconsciously instead, looking up at Mami.

Kyouko shifts her weight. “Kyuubey has a point,” she ventures.

“Kyouko! He’s being rude!”

“He’s trying to spur Frisk into actually fighting back. I kind of hate that we didn’t hear what was happening until _after_ it broke their hand, but it wouldn’t have gotten that far if they’d used their knife.” She looks a bit guilty at the look on Frisk’s face. “And these things have managed to drive humans to suicide, over and over again. They’re probably a danger to monsters, too.”

They know this. The despair that hit them, the malice behind it, could likely dust a monster in an instant. They can’t afford to let a Witch near one. They’re still shivering.

Her eyes shift to their gem. “Keep your eye on your corruption level,” she says. “It’s low now, but you’ll have to save your magic for the Witches. Grief Seeds can barely manage two people; we’ll have to step-up hunting if we want to support you, too. Tell you what,” she adds suddenly, “if you can refine that do-over spell, we could sure use it. Make sure a Witch doesn’t pull one over on us.”

It’s the least they owe them. They nod. **Is there any way we can stop a Witch from attacking people, though? Without killing it.**

Kyouko lifts an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard of that happening. It’s not like we can talk to them.”

**Have you tried?**

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t talked in the middle of a fight,” she admits. “If they could understand me, one probably would’ve used it to kill me.”

The thought chills them. It’s not like these girls could LOAD or RESET. Who knows how many have died to Witches, let alone because they gave them the benefit of the doubt?

“Hey.” Kyouko’s beginning to learn when to recognize them zoning out. She pats their shoulder. “You’ll be alright, okay? We’ll make sure of it.”

“That’s right,” Mami adds. She brushes herself off. “Now, let’s get you back home safe, alright?”

…

Frisk can’t sleep, of course. Any pressure on their hand is too much, and their mind seems to swirl in time with the remnants of darkness in their gem. Their - _soul_ gem. It’s an interesting name. The source of their magic. Maybe their willpower is being focused through it in a fight. It’s the only way they can conceive of humans drawing out enough of their SOUL to use magic. A conduit, and right on their body through the whole fight. They suppose it _has_ to be, in order to manifest the magic correctly, but it still leaves them feeling exposed. Just like in a fight with a monster.

They suppose this is what monsters feel like all the time.

The traces of despair still trapped inside coagulate as they watch. With the way their thoughts were going, they can easily believe a magical girl _needs_ Grief Seeds in order to stay alive. They weren’t feeling too… sure of their own worth, for a minute there. Someone with no Seeds… well. And Kyouko said she and Mami were just managing with the both of them.

Sans didn’t much like Kyouko when he met her, to put it lightly. They hadn’t seen a reaction like that since, since their, um, terrible time. She must have accrued a lot of LOVE by this point, somewhere near level six at least. If she got that from Witches, it only reinforces their idea that killing them is the wrong thing to do (although maybe the least wrong of all options). But if not...

 **Kyuubey** , Frisk finally asks.

“Yes?”

**...Do magical girls, sometimes, fight each other?**

Kyuubey turns its head up to them. “Magical girls often fight each other.”

**Why?**

“The supply of Grief Seeds is limited,” it says. “Sometimes a girl might want to take another girl’s territory.”

 **Do -** their hands are shaking but they have to ask - **do they sometimes kill one another?**

It pauses. “Sometimes, yes. I try to limit that behavior, as it of course isn’t beneficial, but ultimately a magical girl will do what she wants to. I don’t have the power to stop her by force.”

Frisk stares past it, right through the floor. _Why don’t they work together? Witches are terrible enough as it is._

“No one wants to run out of magic,” Kyuubey tells them. “People who have run out of other things would be especially careful not to let this resource run dry for them.”

They meet its eyes. They think they might know who it’s talking about.

“Of course,” it goes on, “you know pretty well that death is no obstacle to a wish. If anything irreparable were to happen, your sister has plenty of potential.”

Frisk is already shaking their head before it finishes. _No, I couldn’t put this on her. She’s been through enough. Besides, I don’t want her to have to fight, too._

“That’s very kind of you, parental, even; but I think you two would make an unstoppable team.” It jumps from their feet to their windowsill in one smooth motion. “You two trust each other quite a lot. If she were to be attacked by a Witch, and were to discover this about you on accident, well. That wouldn’t be beneficial for anyone. Give it some thought.” And it’s gone.

Frisk curls up on their bed. Sleep doesn’t come for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long to write. I lost motivation halfway through the first part and jumped ahead and wrote a thing, which I'll probably have to tear apart again once we actually get to the scene... anyway, Pokemon Go also happened, so where I used to be using my phone to write, it's now been stuck on that game ^_^; Thanks for sticking with me!


	17. We're Partners, Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to post! My trip ended and I flew back, and found out I needed to babysit my niece for a few days. So I'll be working on this when I get the chance, but it might be a bit slow.... On the bright side, I think I have the rest of this arc planned out! So that's something to look forward to.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!

Wakefulness drifts to them over a current of unease. Something’s out of place in their room.

They rub their eyes, sit up.

And find themself slammed into the wall.

“What the _hell,_ partner,” Chara growls right into their ear, her hands digging into their shoulders. She’s keeping her voice down so she can disparage them all she wants without Toriel hearing. Not that the bang against the wall helped in that department.

Frisk snaps their hands up, wincing at the throb of pain, and rushes out, **What? What’s wrong?**

“You! Where did you _go?!_ ”

They freeze. After a moment, they gather the courage to start moving again. **I don’t know what you’re talking about.**

“ _I_ thought, after everything, we wouldn’t _lie_ to each other,” she snarls. “You’ve been going out at night. Last night, you disappeared. _I felt it._ ”

Stillness sinks into their limbs. Slowly, their arms drop.

“Gonna tell me what’s up? Or should I have run to Mom in the middle of the night with a nightmare about _you dying?_ ”

“...I’m not dead,” they rasp. She jerks back.

They have no idea how to explain this. They never meant to have to explain this. They might've thought up a few things to tell her over the last week or so, but none of it would hold up under this revelation that she could _sense when they enter a Barrier._

What are they supposed to say? _‘I traded my pacifism for your and everyone else’s lives’?_ _‘I got magic and then accidentally started working with someone you hate because she's got LOVE and I can’t just reject her help at this point’?_

_‘I can’t tell you because you might want to make a wish and then you’ll be in the same position I’m in’??_

When they finally meet her eyes again, her lip is raised like an animal’s. “Nothing?”

They raise their arms. Hesitate.

“Fine,” she spits. “Then I’m telling _Sans._ ”

_NO._ Alarm floods their system and they somehow manage to dart between her and their door. **No no NO you can’t do that -**

“ _Then tell me what’s going on,_ ” she hisses.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Frisk?” It’s Toriel. “Is everything alright?”

**_ALRIGHT ALRIGHT I’LL -_ ** Frisk brushes their hair out of their face and flails, **I’ll explain myself.**

Chara crosses her arms, but leans back.

Turning to the door, Frisk begins to tap out a response. **I’m fine, just hit the wall with my elbow on accident,** they say. Their mom waits patiently while they finish the message. It’s taken long enough that Toriel has likely figured out they won’t open the door.

“...Alright, just be careful,” she says. The receding footsteps tell the pair she’s gone.

Frisk turns carefully back to their sibling.

They brush their hair out of their face, wipe sweating palms on their pajama pants.

And they begin to sign.

…

“So,” she manages. “So. You’re magical now.”

Frisk nods.

“You're fighting giant things made of the intent to hurt, to kill - made of LOVE, then, basically.”

They nod again.

“You're working with someone _with_ LOVE, who Sans told you to stay away from.”

They nod helplessly.

“And if you don't, you start losing hope.” She buries her face in her hands. “I see why you didn't want me going to Sans about this.”

She's quiet for a minute more.

“But,” she murmurs, “this is how you did it. This is how you brought back me ‘n Azzy.” She takes a deep breath, lowers her arms. “And you didn't want to tell me because you didn't want me to have to FIGHT. Are you crazy?”

Frisk flinches.

But Chara’s grinning, and she throws an arm over their shoulders. “We're _partners._ I'm not gonna leave you by yourself in this.” Frisk is shaking their head, but she goes on, “And were you planning on leaving everyone out of it forever? Mom already noticed you were hurt. You're hurt again now, you know that, right?”

They shake their head even more vigorously. How are they supposed to explain that away?

“So clearly, you're going to have to tell her -”

Frisk pushes her off suddenly, hands moving before they realize they've already said it aloud: “They'll dust her.”

In Chara’s silence, they take the opportunity to sign. **They'll dust any monster that comes near them. These things aren't something I can get their help against.** Frisk steels their shoulders. **They'll** **_die,_ ** **Chara. It can't be them to fight. It, it just can't.**

Her face settles into a resolute mask. “You think,” she begins, “that some magic despair creature can dust _Mom._ ”

**I don't ‘think’ it. I know it. It hates just as strong as a human, Chara. Just as strong as -** They stop. _As that time,_ they were going to say, but she looks livid at the possibility of them mentioning it. And they deserved every bit of that anger, didn't they?

Frisk brushes that thought aside. There's no need for it right now. **Just please don't tell them, they'll want to help and they can't, it'll kill them!**

She sighs, lifts a hand and actually draws it down her face in a long, exaggerated facepalm. Always so melodramatic. “Okay. Fine. Listen, I'll sneak you some magic food so she won't catch you being all hurt. But it's really obvious when you've been out all night, alright? You look like death.”

They step back, letting her pass by to leave for the kitchen. They've never cared that much about their appearance; they're just a kid on the outside. But then, that's exactly what makes Toriel pay extra attention to how they look, how healthy they are. They'll need to brush their hair for once, in other words.

They almost laugh. It's nice to have such a normal concern for a minute or two, here and there. They'll need to hunt tonight or tomorrow night, but then they can take it easy for a while.

That'll be nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just realized I forgot Chara is referred to as 'they' in-game. Do you think I should go back and change it?


	18. Schooling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to add a tag about Chara's gender and save changing it for later, once I've finished the first draft.

School makes for a nice, normal anchor for them. With Chara covering for them while they go with Mami and Kyouko on hunts and practice their magic in their spare time, scrabbling to catch up on their homework with Monster Kid is a nice distraction. They let him recount the reading while they explain the math, and together with Chara and Asriel they manage to keep up.

It's during one of these recesses, a week or so after Chara found out, that they find themself sitting under an oak tree on the decent-sized playground of their nearly-all-monster school, enjoying the dappled shadow over their arms while MK tells them the contents of the assigned chapter.

“So he finds a nest of turtle eggs, and talks about how his uncle used to eat eggs _raw,_ and then - get this - he _actually tears open a turtle egg and eats it._ ”

Frisk makes a gagging face. MK laughs.

“So yeah, still alive,” he finishes.

**_Ewwwww._ ** Frisk sticks their tongue out at him.

“Hey, he's making it,” Chara points out. She rolls over from where she's stretched out on the grass. Her path just so happens to carry her over onto Frisk’s notebook. “Don't tell me you'd refuse Mom's snail pie if you were starving.” She only smirks when Frisk pokes her side to get her to move.

“Mom's pie is _way_ better than a raw turtle egg!” Asriel protests from the branches. Locking his legs around one, he swings over the side and hangs upside-down to talk face-to-face.

Chara just shakes her head. “It's a human thing, Az,” she says. She's determinedly ignoring Frisk’s jabs. Frisk gives up and switches to prying their notebook out from under her instead.

“But you love Mom’s pies!”

“Yep.”  She starts jabbing Frisk back, and they dance out of the way and fold their arms. “Before I tried them, though, I would've thought snails were gross. Humans are weird about foods sometimes.”

**Give me my notebook back,** they request, politely. She pulls her eyelid down, sticks her tongue out and even adds in a _nyeh_ sound effect that they could _absolutely_ use against her if they were rude.

“Hey, come onnn, Chara,” Asriel helps. His ears are dangling within her reach.

In the most obvious move since dynamite in rock-paper-scissors, Chara reaches up and tugs one, causing him to yelp and scramble back upright. “Don't worry so much!” she says. “Frisk is just being a nerd, they're already doing homework they were _just assigned,_ it's not even due ‘til next week! I'm just trying to save their social life!”

Frisk rolls their eyes. **I am so far behind,  you don't even know.**

“Alright, alright!” She gets to her feet, sporting a sheepish smile, and edges the notebook closer to them until they can snatch it up. Then she turns her signature impish smile on her brother. “You should get an ear-tie.”

“Only if you do!” he retorts. Frisk throws him a double-thumbs up amid Chara’s indignant gasp.

And then her eyes move to something further off, and her expression closes up.

Confused, they turn around.

Across the street from the school, a group of humans is touting around some signs. They can't really read them from here, but from the group's behavior, marching around in circles in the way of the school's front doors, the signs don't say anything good.

Asriel slips down from the tree, eyes wide and brows drawn together. “What's going on?”

“ _Nothing._ ” Chara seizes his wrist. She pulls toward the opposite end of the playground. “Come on, Frisk, MK. Recess is over. Let's get going.”

A yell from the group draws Frisk’s attention back. A couple of the people are pointing at them, jabbing the air in some sort of accusation. In the corner of Frisk’s eye, MK is shrinking into the ground, tail curling around his feet.

“Come on!” Chara barks, and he scrambles to her side. Frisk lingers only a moment longer.

It looks like it's time for them to act as the Ambassador once again.

…

“Why didn't you wish for equal treatment?” Chara grumbles from their floor.

Frisk is lying on their back, hands folded on their stomach and mind whirling. **Kyuubey said no one could manage an ongoing effect on everyone like that,** they admit.

Chara’s lip rises in a snarl, but she doesn't say anything more.

The rest of the school day had passed in a tension that radiated in from the windows despite the teachers’ best efforts. Apparently someone called the police but there wasn't really any response, the protest was legal, so no one even bothered to come by to monitor it. It caused a bit of a problem when the last bell rang and parents had to get past them to pick up their children. Everyone was held for another half hour until they stopped blocking the entrance. Frisk finally got a chance to read what the signs said - _‘Justice for our Children’_ and _‘Welcome to Junior Murderer School’_ were a couple of common themes. At the busiest point during pick-up, someone started up the chant, “Out of the ground, into the prisons,” and it spooked some of the kids so bad they couldn't set foot outside until the whole protest left. There was one sign in particular that drew Frisk’s attention: _‘Let Our Children Go’_. They had a feeling they knew who came up with it.

The protesters told them in no uncertain terms that they'd be back tomorrow. And the next day, and the next day, and…

When they got home, there'd been a letter shoved under the door. Toriel opened it, went into the next room to read it, and by the time Frisk caught up she'd set it on fire. Her smile was a bit too tight when she asked them to play in their room today.

**Maybe,** Frisk starts, and hesitates. **Maybe it would've been better if I** -

“It's not your fault,” she tells them in a tone that sets gooseflesh across their arms. “Humanity's always been this way.”

Frisk drops their hands. They bounce gently on the bed, creasing the sheets. Old sheets. Toriel got them secondhand for cheap. Who knows who made them.

“Of course the one thing we need changed is what no one can do.” Chara slams her fist on the floor. “Figures. No wonder there are Witches. There's so much around to feed on.”

They don't have anything to say to that, so they rest in the looming silence for a moment. They're stuck inside on Mom's orders, like a kid. They're not just a kid. They haven't been just a kid for a long, long time. But they look young, and so even though they're sure they can handle negotiations and political talk and they just want to help fix this like they said they would, they're stuck in here because of some _letter._ How are they supposed to help if they can't even go outside? 

It's bright and beautiful outside today. Birdsong and the faint thrum of a lawnmower drifts in from the shuttered window, cracked open so a breeze can make it into the room. It's a perfect day to go to the park.

They've had their fill of it from all the nights out.

Frisk turns over, pulling the sheets up to cover them. They're already the monsters’ Ambassador. They can't clean up humanity's mess too. They just can't.

“Hey, partner -” Chara’s taken to calling them that even more than she used to. They feel her hand on their back. “I didn't mean to drag you down. Listen, we have ice cream in the kitchen, let's go get some. Okay?”

It takes a bit more energy than they expect it to, but they nod and sit up. **What's Asriel up to?**

“Probably still stuck in the Silph Co building,” she answers, and to their blank face, clarifies, “A puzzle game. Teleports you all over the place, it's kinda hard to follow. He's gotten pretty far in the game, though.” She takes their wrist and pulls them out from their room. “Come on, let's get him some ice cream too!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God bless Chara


	19. Who are you protecting

They aren't allowed to walk on their own in the hallways anymore.

School becomes a place of tension, home even more so as the letters, and then emails, start to flood in full-force. Someone leaked their address online. Letters weren't all they got; one day they came home to a giant pile of cardboard moving boxes. That was a mess to sort out, and Frisk could see the toll these things were taking on Toriel. Whenever she, Asgore, Sans and Gaster meet anymore, they retreat to a private study and lock the door behind them. They speak quietly enough that Frisk can't eavesdrop on them. Instead, Frisk is left with bargaining for information afterward (and always failing) and burying themself in some video game when it becomes too much.

There is no need to RESET, they tell themself. Duncle Sans wouldn't want them to. It’ll get worse before it would get better, but it _will_ get better.

Hunting, in contrast, becomes a surprisingly freeing exercise. At midnight, with no one watching them except for the other magical girls, they're allowed to do whatever they want, say whatever they want. Go wherever they want. Sure they spend the time tracking down the abominations called Witches, and either hang back to distract the Familiars during the fight or use their magic to rescue Mami or Kyouko from a close call, but afterward they can hang out, go eat, sneak into a movie, explore the city, whatever. So long as they keep Kyuubey nearby, they can even go by themself.

It's during one of these nights that they wander into a quiet alleyway, expecting to take a shortcut to an arcade. They've got a pocketful of coins, an allowance they've let build up over the past couple months, and they're ready to blow it all on crane games if it'll just take the edge off this constant tension. Heck, maybe they could even SAVE before they use any coins and LOAD once they run out, repeat ad nauseam until they get a toy. Maybe even all the toys. It's not like anyone could stop them.

They feel guilt's claws tighten, just so into their shoulders, but they bury it under their roiling frustration. It's okay to cheat on the scam machines. It has to be. There has to be at least one thing fair in this world.

 _But it wouldn't be right,_ echoes their mind. _It's my responsibility to do the right thing. Sans would be so disappointed._

 **No he wouldn't,** they snap at themself, hands whipping through the air, and a shadow of a shape dances back.

Soft giggles reach their ears as they flash into their magic dress. The Familiar leans around on one pointed foot like it's off-balance, about to fall, and its tilted dress waves around muted spiraling colors in a hypnotizing rhythm while its zigzag arms windmill to keep it from tipping too far. Its smile is just barely too wide, cheeks sporting zippers at either end.

 _Yes he would,_ it whispers. One arm whirls dangerously close.

They summon their knife without even thinking. The Familiar seems to think better of it, pulling its arms in to regard them. Then it twirls on the spot and bounds away.

 _Kyuubey,_ Frisk calls, _Tell Mami and Kyouko that there's a Familiar outside of its Labyrinth._ And they follow in pursuit.

…

About two blocks down, Kyouko joins them. Mami is nowhere to be seen, either preoccupied with her own hunt or out of range. The thing is dancing around, taking leaps too wide for them to catch up even when its movement isn't anywhere near a straight line. Its giggling echoes off the building faces and down the streets. It heads toward a bar, lights low but not off yet, patrons too lost to realize there's a kid and a teen dressed like they hopped out of some cosplay. When they step in they're ignored by all except the bartender, but they rush past him anyway in the vain hope he'll just go back to the regulars.

The thing's already perched on some poor guy's back, arms wrapped around him, zigzag points digging into his torso. He's got his head in his hands.

 _It's strong enough to sustain itself for this long of a run, it'll be strong enough to take out that guy,_ Kyouko sends. _Might even grow into a Witch if we don't take care of it._

 _Then let's get it off him,_ Frisk replies.

Swallowing their anxiety ( _don't you know not to talk to strangers, stupid child_ it sings), they step up and tug on the man's sleeve.

He glances at them blearily, then does a double-take and rubs at his eyes.

“Who the hell’re you?”

Frisk gives him a smile. “Girlscout,” they rasp.

He blinks, very slowly. “You sound worse than me. Where’re your parents?”

Kyouko steps up, placing a hand on their shoulder. _I hope you know what you're doing, Frisk,_ she sends, before smiling. “Actually, we thought we could find them here. Have you seen a red-haired woman, ‘bout yay high, blue suit?”

“No.” He looks between them. “Listen, if you need to call them, the bar's got a phone - oh, he's using it.” He scratches his head. “Maybe he saw your mom earlier. Bartender’s got a great memory.”

Frisk glances back at the bartender, catching some of the words. _He's calling the police._

_Great. What do we do? I can't just throw a spear at his head in public._

Frisk’s mind is racing. _Take me outside._

_What?_

_Trust me._

Kyouko takes a moment to compose herself, and smiles at him. “Thanks anyway. Come on, sis,” she says, and takes Frisk’s hand before heading out of the bar.

“Wait -” Just as they'd hoped, the man is hurrying out after them in some sense of responsibility. If the Familiar was guilting him the same way it was them, he wouldn't want to mess anything else up. And what could be worse than having a couple disappeared kids on your conscience?

Once the pair rounds the corner into the alley, Kyouko summons her spear. It doesn't take him long to catch up.

But the Familiar is ready.

When he freezes at the sight of the weapon, its arm springs out and wraps around the spear. Before she can even cry out, it _yanks_ the thing out of her grip and tosses it over his head to clatter on the street behind them.

The other arm wraps more tightly around his chest. He's beginning to wheeze, whether out of pressure or fear, they can't know. Not that he can tell there's actually something squeezing him.

“Did - you just - toss a _spear_ at me?” he manages, face looking grey in the dim street lights.

Kyouko has her hands out in a placating manner. “Sir, you're obviously drunk,” she starts.

“ _Like hell,_ ” he snaps, “I know what that feels like and this isn't it!” He heaves in one shallow breath, then another. “This is - is - I can't - oh God, help me, I can't breathe -”

There aren’t any footsteps coming close from the sidewalk, which strikes them suddenly as very weird. Shouldn't other people from the bar have run out after them? Shouldn't someone be curious or worried at the sight of the spear?

 _Frisk._ Kyouko’s glancing at them. _Quick, while his attention’s on me._

They balk. _What? But -_

_I can't summon another spear without making him panic, and the thing's gonna send him into a panic attack already if we don't get it off him now!_

They meet the Familiar’s eyes. It cackles at them. _Useless, aren't you?_

It lets its smile sag open and it doesn’t care whether it lives or dies, it just wants this man to die. It wants _them_ to die. They haven’t killed a single one. But they've been letting these things die for weeks now. Feeling the malice directed at them, at everything, and choosing to defend the magical girls over these things.

What's one more, over this man's life?

When the knife shears through its free arm and into its body, the thing's face finally twists into something less grotesquely pleased with itself. It pushes the man over, too late to flee, and shifts its last arm up to loop jagged edges around his neck.

Frisk jams the knife in through its shoulder.

The body twists apart. Edges unravel and dissipate, fading into the air like smoke.

Kyouko rushes up to help roll the man onto his back. He's coughing, holding his middle like breathing hurts, and Kyouko holds her hands out over him.

“Please,” he gasps, “Take my money, whatever you like, just let me go.” The terror in his eyes punches the air from Frisk’s gut.

“Idiot,” Kyouko mutters. “I’m trying to heal you. We just saved your life. Not that you'll remember.”

They manage to tear their eyes away long enough to glance at her in question.

She meets their eyes for a second, then gestures with a flick of her chin. “Ask him.”

Kyuubey is padding down the alleyway with a completely unconcerned expression. It sits at their feet. “You really kicked up some dust around here.”

Frisk flinches, but it doesn't seem to notice.

“It took a while, but no one at the bar remembers you two,” it says. “Is this the last witness?”

“I think so,” Kyouko says, and backs away.  Kyuubey pads up to him and examines him, tilting its head this way and that.

“You've done a good job healing his ribs,” it says. “We’ll just have to excuse the bruises somehow. It could theoretically happen if he were drunk.”

She nods. “Thanks, Kyuubey.”

 _What's going on?_ Frisk wants to ask, but for the moment, they can barely manage standing. The knife is gone. There's no trace of the Familiar. It's almost as though it didn't happen.

“Come on, Frisk, let's get out of here,” Kyouko says. She lays a hand on their shoulder. “We need to go before anyone else shows up. And I'd like to give Mami a piece of my mind, skipping out on this,” she growls.

Finally, their hands respond. **Will he be okay?**

She nods, and starts steering them out of the alleyway. “Kyuubey will erase his memory of tonight, so we can stay secret. It doesn't help people to know we can use magic if they can't see the Witches, you know?”

They try not to feel too conflicted. **I don't like scaring people,** they admit. To their pride, their hands don't shake all that much.

“Don't worry about that. You _saved his life,_ ” she reminds them. “I wouldn't have made another spear in time to keep him from getting his throat slit. I mean -” She looks taken aback at herself, but Frisk waves it off.

 **Thanks, Kyouko,** they sign, and mean it. They saved a man's life. There's no way they'll regret it.


	20. Fallout, part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, twenty chapters. Milestone reached. And we're still just getting started.
> 
> I have about three weeks before the next semester starts up, so I'm going to try to get as much written as I can. This is nowhere near the end, so I can't expect myself to finish this that soon, but I'll keep posting regularly and raising the stakes for the time being.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

They're a wreck the next morning. Everything looks like a pillow.

Thankfully it's a Saturday morning, so they're still in their pajamas, eating breakfast with their sibs in front of some mindless cartoon. Although honestly, their cereal is hardly touched.

They've leaned over surreptitiously enough that they don't think Asriel noticed, with his head buried in his game. Frisk lets out a yawn and leans the rest of the way onto his furry shoulder.

Asriel lifts his elbow. “Get offa me.”

Frisk wraps their arms around that elbow and lets out the most obnoxious snore they can muster.

“Fri-i-isk!” He frowns down at them. His ears are perked and he's got his snout wrinkled up like he's about to sneeze. “I'm _trying_ to beat the E4.”

They have a passing impulse to ask what that is, but it would mean relinquishing their hold on their pillow, so they don't.

His ears droop back down. “Hey, you don't look so good. Are you having nightmares again?”

They shake their head and keep shaking it, with smaller and smaller motions until it becomes clear they're just nuzzling into his arm.

“H-Hey, come on!” He starts waving their pillow around. They scrunch up their face in displeasure. “I'm not a pillow, cut it out!”

They let go to correct him and get smacked in the face.

Asriel’s hands go to his mouth, game dropped and forgotten. “Ohmygosh I'msosorry -”

For an instant, they feel like scowling, but it’s gone the next second. They wave him off. **I'm fine.** Sitting up, they try and fail to smother a yawn. **What's the ‘E4’?**

As a relieved Asriel tries to explain in way too much detail, Chara comes back in from the kitchen. She’s clearly trying to conceal something by holding it close to her side and behind her back. Sliding her feet along through the hallway, she manages to make it into the living room before revealing… a soda can.

She’s grinning. “Guess what Mom hid from us.”

“ _Charawe’renotsupposedtohavethose -_ ” Asriel blurts, game forgotten.

“Aw, come on, it’s just one!” she protests, and turns to Frisk. “Partner, back me -”

Frisk blinks at her, but she’s still. When she moves again, it’s just to put the can down “...Huh.”

 **What?** They rub at their eyes, trying to wake themself up. _What am I missing?_

Chara steps closer, not answering right away but instead looking them over. “So, I take it, yesterday wasn’t so great.” Her voice has dropped in pitch until it fries over the final word. There’s something not quite _nice_ in her expression, a slight upturn of her mouth that chills them. It hits them how she’s standing - weight distributed evenly between both legs, knees slightly bent. They’re not even sure she’s conscious of it.

Asriel looks between them, utterly lost. “Did - something happen during school? Frisk?”

Frisk gets up, hands up in a placating manner, when they hear the front door bang open. Muffled steps and cursing and a _thump_ against the wall echo into the living room. They can make out several voices - one of which is the _worst_ to be here right now. They break for their room.

“ _Partner -_ ” Chara chases after them, Asriel right behind. They manage to shut their door and lock it after the both of them.

“Frisk? What’s wrong - why’d you do that?” Asriel’s demands are softened by his higher, hushed voice. Frisk presses a finger to their lips.

 **You can’t let him see me.** **_Please._ **

Instead of instantly agreeing, Chara leans back against the door, folding her arms. “And why not?”

 **You** **_know_ ** **why.**

“Tch.” She stares at her feet for a moment. “Mom’s gonna come looking for you.”

 **So long as it’s later.** **_Please,_ ** **I can’t -** They falter. **It - it wasn’t a monster, alright?**

She looks up in surprise. “I thought, this whole time -”

 **I hadn’t actually gotten involved until yesterday. I was just playing backup.** Their signs are getting sloppy. There’s low, rumbling chatter out in the house, all the adults speaking at once in a rush. **But I saved a man’s life. I couldn’t** **_not._ **

They can see the moment acceptance settles into her mind. She gives a short nod, then turns to Asriel. “Come with me, we need to stall -”

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” he demands, injecting a note of authority into his voice. He’d learned it from roleplaying, and from listening to Mom and Dad. It’s just a shadow of the ruler he will become someday, but it’s there.

Chara shoots a rueful glance at Frisk. They struggle with themself in silence.

She sighs. “Afterward, Azzy. I’m sorry, but we need to deal with this now. Can you trust me?”

Asriel wilts. Of course he does, he always trusted Chara, even when it killed him. And he finally learned how bitter she was, and then Frisk brought them back and all that bitterness was gone, gone or hidden, and he’d opened up again just like they used to be. And here they were.

He nods.

Chara opens the door and the pair slips out, leaving Frisk alone in their room. They shut and lock the door behind their sibs. Then they slide down against it, ending in a cross-legged seat with their face buried in their hands. They wanted to help the monsters. Now they can’t even find out what’s wrong.

…

After a few minutes of wallowing in self-pity, Frisk startles at two raps on the door. Slowly, carefully, can their SOUL be seen through a door, they never thought to ask, they reach up and tap out, **Who’s there?**  Their finger stutters against the wood, toward the end.

“Boo.” Oh thank God it’s Toriel.

Flexing their free hand in time with the coiling in their stomach, they tap out, **Boo, who?**

“There is no need to cry alone, my child.” Her voice is warm, fluttering with a hint of laughter, but mostly gentle and concerned. “May I come in?”

They hesitate. If someone needs her while she’s in here…

But they’ve been shutting her out too much recently. They unlock the door.

When it opens, Toriel is smiling down at them, before stepping in and softly closing their door behind her. She takes a seat and pats her lap. Frisk is happy to snuggle up. Her arms wrap around them and just for a minute, they’re her child again. Young, innocent, safe…

She is not at all shocked to see tears slip down their cheeks, unlike themself.

Toriel starts to hum, running her hand over their hair, absently smoothing it out and releasing any tangles. They lean against her shoulder. It’s hard to put anything into words, so they just let it be.

“You have been bottling this up for a while, have you not,” she murmurs. They just manage to nod into her shoulder. She sighs, slow and quiet. “You always have someone to talk to, here.”

They can’t.

Minutes pass in silence while Frisk gathers themself up and bundles it all away. They’re just worried they’ll have to explain their EXP. Right now, it doesn’t seem that bad. All they have to do is show him what Familiars and Witches are. What’s he going to do, tell their parents? ...Well, that would be kind of bad; Toriel would blame herself, and so would Asgore, actually. After all, Frisk did need to bring back those kids. Haven’t heard anything about them in a while. And then what, their parents will - help out against Witches? Not so bad, actually - so long as they don't get hit, of course.

If they're allowed to remember.

With their gut sinking, they recall last night’s conversation. Kyuubey will erase the memories - somehow - of anyone who finds out about their secret. How does that work - are close friends allowed to remember? Is it people they approve, or do people get excluded based on how likely they are to blow cover? If they do make it through explaining everything to Sans, will he still recall that the next day or will there have been no point? Will _Chara_ be made to forget if she tells Asriel??

And what, if anything, gets left in place of the memories?

“My child?” Frisk’s hands have knotted in her sleeve. They hurriedly release it.

Wiping their clammy hands on their pants, they manage to sign, **I’m just worried about Ambassador stuff. You never tell me anything!**

But it seems like that was the wrong thing to say. She sets one large, furry hand on their shoulder, opens her mouth, and shuts it again. She smiles. Stress pulls at the corners of her eyes. “It is nothing to be worried about, Frisk. We have this under control.”

**What about the people at the school?**

Toriel winces at that, but tries to cover it by hugging them. “They are just worried, too. I am sure if we all talk to one another -”

“hey, tori, we need you in here again.” They freeze at the baritone voice. Don’t move, jump this way, back up, hold still, jump again… “tori? today, please - sorry -”

She’s giving them a look, but glances at the door, and gently lifts them off her lap so she can stand up. “I am on my way.” They cling to her hand, stumbling when she withdraws, mind stunned with panic, there's nowhere to hide in their room and anyway Toriel would see them go, would worry and mention it, would give them away -

“ _Sans!_ ” Chara’s shriek from further away echoes through the house. Sans mutters a curse and then his shadow is gone from under the door.

With only a glance at them and a rushed apology, Toriel leaves. And they can’t follow.

…

Chara slips away to tell them what’s going on about half an hour later.

It’s Gaster. He was heading to the grocery store after work in Asgore’s laboratories, on foot because it was close enough and he didn’t have a driver’s license yet and the busses weren’t really _stopping_ for monsters, and now he’s lying on their couch, nursing injuries that stubbornly refuse to leak dust.

The adults’ combined healing magic had brought him to full recovery at first, and after everyone took a collective breath, it seemed like all they would be doing was soothing his temper and planning out the official story. He’s one of the stronger monsters they recovered, and among the most intelligent. It wouldn’t take much effort on his part to exact retribution. Luckily for them, he understands perfectly why he can’t do exactly that.

But then the injuries worsened.

It was at that point that Sans had gone looking for Toriel, to pour healing magic back into him. He seems fine now, Chara’s saying. But she’s saying it with fury roiling under her voice, crackling through every other word like pulses of energy through the Barrier. He’d done nothing wrong. He didn't even FIGHT back, just took every chance to flee. He’d just gone out to buy food, to invest their money into the human economy.

And he’d apparently taken a job from someone, a job under the monster king that no human had applied for and likely wouldn’t even if the position somehow opened up.

They have to stand and take her hands in theirs until her shoulders stop shaking, until she crumples forward and squeezes them like she can wring a solution from them, like somehow they’re carrying the answer to humanity’s cruelty and all they have to do is give it up. They let her. There’s nothing they can say to make this easier.

At some point Asriel slips in and wraps his arms around the both of them, whispers that their grandpa is going to be okay. He’s all better now. They’ll let him stay over for the night (a flare of panic lights up Frisk’s eyelids before they quash it back down) just in case his condition worsens again (and those familiar claws dig shame into their spine and try their best to draw blood) and they’ll keep an eye on him and make sure he stays safe and healthy. In fact, no one is going out alone again. For their own safety.

Frisk’s eyes burn. Asriel shouldn’t have to be the one comforting them. Asriel should be the one they have to comfort. He can’t go to the park anymore, can’t go running off on his own for fun. Their eyes meet and Frisk sees understanding, sees a depth they’d forgotten he shares. He’s much older than he looks, too.

They also see a question, and know they’ll have to explain themself sooner or later, but not now. For now, the two of them need to be here, for their sister who dared for a little while to hope again.


	21. I said, try to relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This hurt so bad to write, guys.
> 
> Took forever, too. It's yet another park scene, so Idk, maybe there's a connection. Anyway, let's expand on that character tag who's only cameo'd so far and hasn't had a single line of dialogue.
> 
> Trigger warning: Parental abuse up ahead. All emotional, so for those of you who know her backstory, I haven't gotten there yet. But man, this was painful.

Monster-human relations are getting worse.

With the release of a slapped-together “documentary” on the six children’s lives, anti-monster sentiment spread across the country practically overnight. Protests are a much more common sight anymore. The school is temporarily moved underground out of necessity, for the safety of the children. Incidentally, the move also means Frisk doesn’t need to put nearly as much effort into avoiding Sans as they thought they would: beneath the puns and deflections, he adamantly refused to move with the school and instead started searching for another job.

As for the Witches, there seems to be no end to them. Frisk is out FIGHTing alongside Mami and Kyouko more nights than not. Now that they’re willing to strike back, their ability to find the smallest of openings in combat becomes invaluable. They still avoid landing the final blow as often as possible, with the excuse that it makes them, erm, more _conspicuous_ to monsters. Kyouko seems to reach an understanding with that.

Speaking of Kyouko, she’s been smiling less often. She’s throwing her all into the fights, giving her teammates a grin rivalling Undyne’s when they ask how she’s doing, but Frisk has plenty of practice deciphering smiles. Hers is as fake as Sans’ was.

Once, they try asking how Momo is, instead. She’s fine, she says. Truthfully. But they ask if they could maybe come over again sometime, and they don’t get a response.

Mami’s exceedingly careful when taking the team outside of her and Kyouko’s growing territory. She apologized profusely for missing their Familiar hunt; apparently she’d been out of range for telepathy (and _of course_ there’s a range, why didn’t they think of that, otherwise they’d be hearing from magical girls all over the world). According to Kyuubey, magical girls are now in more danger than ever before. When Kyouko and Mami don’t think Frisk is listening, the word ‘murder’ comes up. Frisk wants to offer them sanctuary at their house, surrounded by powerful monsters. But after the moving boxes incident, and the letters, and the rest of the proof that their address is public, they’re not sure that their house is that safe anymore either.

Frisk makes one last attempt to go to the park during the day and enjoy themself. They’ve had the feeling for a while that they might not get this chance again anytime soon. So after much begging and pleading, they, Chara, Asriel, and Toriel head out for an afternoon. Kyouko’s family couldn’t come, unfortunately, but they get the chance to “meet” Mami there as one of Kyouko’s friends. Her refined politeness and casual discourse on tea and pastries is a much-needed breath of fresh air for Toriel, they can tell.

In the distance, the little girl with green hair is back. She’s on the swings again; seems to be her favorite place. Chara spots her and is suddenly insistent they join her. Frisk gets her to be cautious in their approach, hoping she isn’t scared of all three of them just because she saw Frisk with Sans.

The girl finally notices them and freezes. Luckily, Chara’s there to help.

“Hey.” She waves, smiling more widely than she had with Momo. “Mind if we join you?”

The girl bites her lip, looks down. But she shakes her head.

“Great, thanks!” Chara takes a seat beside her and offers Frisk and Asriel the pair on her other side. Something about her expression is focused, precisely the degree of welcoming and harmless that looks natural to those who don’t know her as well as they do. She’s being deliberate about this. “My name’s Chara. These are my siblings, Frisk and Asriel. What’s your name?”

Her hands and feet tighten. After a moment, she opens her mouth.

“...hu…”

“I-I’m sorry?” Chara asks. She was far too quiet to be heard.

The girl clams up. Her fingers interweave into the swing chain and clench. She doesn’t seem to want to say, and for the moment, Chara’s at a loss.

Frisk has been there. They begin to sign.

At the girl’s curious look, Chara explains, “Frisk doesn’t like speaking much either. They prefer to sign. We can translate for them, since a lot of people don’t know sign language.” Frisk catches her eye and nods, and she clears her throat. “They’re saying they remember how hard it was to be around people when they didn’t want to talk. How their voice would squeak and fade away. How people used to - discourage them from speaking at all.” Understanding flashes across her face. “Signing gave them a voice when they couldn’t use theirs. They still don’t use theirs much, but want to practice to make it strong again. They’re saying, they could teach you some signs if you like?”

She’s quiet, rubbing her feet together, keeping her eyes down. The trio looks on hopefully.

Then, she carefully raises her eyes to peer between her bangs. She nods.

Frisk beams at her. **Great! I could teach you to sign your name if you want?** Chara translates.

The girl chews on her lip for a minute or two. They almost think they messed up. But then she murmurs, “It’s Yuma.”

“Nice to meet you, Yuma!” Asriel pipes up. She glances at him but drops her gaze immediately, shrinking in on herself.

“Don’t worry about him, Yuma,” Chara says, leaning back in the swing and pushing herself off, “He’s harmless. Biggest ball of fluff the world’s seen since kittens.”

Yuma lets out a tiny giggle at that.

“There, that’s better. Laughter’s good for you!” she encourages. Frisk risks a curious look at her; Chara never showed signs Underground of abnormal concern for quieter people, such as Alphys. Although they feel the same - the poor girl’s so shy, for the same reason they were, they think (although hopefully not the exact same reason) - they can’t help but wonder what drew their sister over to her to begin with.

“So,” Chara goes on, swinging higher and higher, “Wanna play a game with us?”

Yuma’s nod is a little bit faster this time.

“Great!” She leaps from the swing, landing a bit rough but turning it into a roll to get back on her feet. She turns back around to face them, arms held wide dramatically. “Ta-dah!”

Yuma lets out another laugh. It's high-pitched and airy, mostly silent, and her face falls back into chewing on her lip immediately after.

Chara grins at her. “Do you like role-playing?”

After a moment, Yuma asks, “What’s that?” Her voice is barely audible.

“It’s playing pretend.” Asriel’s decided to help with whatever she’s doing. He steps away from his swing and holds his paws out, all big eyes and smiles. “Like, let’s say I’m Fluffy Bunny, and Chara’s -”

“Actually, let’s do a different one,” Chara interrupts. From what Frisk has seen, games involving Fluffy Bunny don’t tend to end well, so they understand why she wouldn’t want to use that here. But why come up and try to win Yuma over? “Why don’t you play Papyrus?” she suggests, jolting Frisk back to paying attention.

“What?” Asriel’s stunned for a second or two. He fiddles with his ear. “Gosh, I dunno if I could get him right.”

“You’re the best, Azzy, of course you can,” Chara says. She steps up to Yuma, still on her swing, and offers her hand. “So, wanna be someone else for a while?”

Yuma makes the closest face to a smile so far, and grasps Chara’s hand.

…

When Toriel and Mami rejoin them, the trio is visiting Queen Yuma’s crystal kingdom in outer space, and The Great Asriel has been complimenting himself and everyone else so much Yuma’s finally smiling.

Asriel spots them first. “Aha! Foreign diplomats approacheth!” He hasn’t quite gotten down the booming voice yet, or maybe he’s just self-conscious enough to want not to catch the attention of everyone in the park.

Frisk politely covers their smile at the “antiquated” english behind a hand. They wave.

Mami takes a moment to curtsey. “Greetings,” she says with her characteristic pleasant smile. “May we join you?”

Yuma giggles and then imperiously gestures at Frisk and Asriel to make room. She motions Asriel over to her one side, Chara already on the other. She’s not scared at all of monsters anymore, or at least not goat monsters. Frisk scoots back over beside Chara.

Toriel beams at them. “Hello, my children. I see you’ve made a friend?”

Frisk nods and motions to Yuma, who gets to her feet as carefully as if she was wearing a voluminous, expensive dress instead of her overalls and long-sleeved shirt, and slowly, precisely spells out her own name in sign language. She has this expression of such pride and eagerness it makes Frisk want to applaud her.

“Ah! Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Yuma,” Toriel says. She carefully takes a seat beside Frisk, with Mami on her other side. Yuma grins back, bowing and sitting back down cross-legged.

“So, where are you from?” Mami asks.

“I’m from the moon!” Mami and Toriel share a bemused expression for a moment.

“I see,” Toriel says. “Why did you make such a long journey to earth, then?”

Yuma looks at Chara for advice, who shrugs. “It was cold!” she tells them.

And so it goes. Yuma announces herself as the Queen of the Galaxy (a bit of a promotion) and gives each of the three of them a title under her reign: Chara gets to be the Star Knight, Frisk is the Moon Jester and Asriel is suddenly her husband the King. Asriel’s face goes bright red for a minute and Frisk can’t help but laugh. He tugs his ears over his face instead.

 **You’ll have to let her down gently like Papyrus did with me,** Frisk tells him when he peeks out, and Asriel lets out a little groan that accidentally turns into a _baa_ and he just lets himself fall backwards out of embarrassment.

Yuma gives a dramatic swooning sigh at him and he buries his face even further.

Chara reaches around his future wife and pokes him. “So Azzy, do I get to be,” and she grins and Frisk knows _that_ expression and they're so excited to finally see it on their sister's face that it infects their own and beside them their mother picks it up at the same time, “your _best ram?_ ”

He groans and Frisk and Toriel erupt into giggles. “That doesn’t even work!”

“Aw, come on, I can pull off a suit!”

“You need horns! You don’t have horns!”

Mami looks completely out of her depth. Frisk is just enjoying laughing at that face on calm, collected, competent Mami when -

“YUMA!” thunders a male voice, startling everyone in the circle. Smiles slip off their faces like melting Nice Cream onto the dirt. Yuma’s has completely disappeared, and she’s scooted backwards and curled in on herself again, arms wrapped tight around her knees. Chara’s eyes dart over and Frisk just catches a vicious snarl crossing Chara’s face before it fades into normal aggravation. Then they look the same direction she is, and see him.

It’s the man they saved from a Familiar that night, out of his trashed clothes and in some sort of suit instead, topped with a furious expression. As he storms over, Toriel stands, slightly holding her arm out to warn the group back.

He stops about ten feet away from her. Standing upright with his head tilted back just enough to look down his nose, he scrunches it up in what looks like a mix of fear and disdain. “What are you doing with my daughter, monster?”

Chara leaps to her feet. Frisk has to grab her by the shoulders to keep her from charging him.

Toriel’s expression has hardened. “She was playing by herself on the swings, and my children went over to meet her.” They don’t miss the accusation in her voice in ‘by herself’, and from the looks of it, neither does he. “I was simply sitting with them to make sure they’re safe.”

“Like hell you were,” he spits back, and her eyes narrow further. “You’re probably the ones tricking her into running away, aren’t you?”

Toriel risks a concerned look back at Yuma. Unfortunately, she takes this as her cue to scramble to her feet and hide behind Toriel’s dress. She’s shivering.

The man’s face darkens. “I knew it. You’ve brainwashed my daughter with your disgusting magic and now she’s afraid of her own father.” He meets Frisk’s eyes. But his move back just as quickly. He doesn’t recognize them at all. “Is that what you did with those other two?!” he yells, gesturing wildly at Frisk and Chara, who spits at him. He ignores her completely. “I should’ve known after hearing about what happened to those kids that it would be one of _you._ This is kidnapping. I’m calling the police.”

Then Mami steps forward, all business, positioning herself between him and Toriel, whose expression rivals his at the moment. “Sir, we understand that you’re concerned for you daughter’s safety and have been worried sick looking for her. If you would please calm down -”

“You shut your trap.” She flinches back as if he’d slapped her. “You monster lovers can’t be trusted either. Who knows what they’ve done to you?”

Mami’s struck speechless and the man has pulled out his phone and Toriel’s being forced to weigh the apparent safety of a child with the future of her entire species. Frisk doesn’t know what to do. Should they SAVE? Or is it too late - should they LOAD a save? The last time they SAVEd was a while ago, they think, they’re really not sure -

“Leave them alone!”

It’s Yuma. Her tinny voice raised as high as it would go, she steps out from behind Toriel and faces him.

The man stops dialing. He lowers his phone. “What did you say to me?”

“They’re my friends, they didn’t do anything bad! I was just - I wanted to play and Mom wouldn’t take me, I - I’m sorry, I won’t do it again -” Her voice is tripping and stumbling over the words but she’s standing tall, even as her head falls. She barely looks ten.

The man pauses, pockets his phone and folds his hands behind his back. “What have I told you about raising your voice to me, Yuma.”

“N-Not to,” she murmurs. They’re all looking at her now and it seems to be scaring her back into her shell.

“Speak up, you’re too quiet,” he orders.

“Y-Y-You said I’m n-not to raise m-my v-v-v-voice to you.” She's keeping her eyes down, shoulders hunched, the picture of nonthreatening.

“Your stutter is back. And after all those lessons.” He sighs, then holds out his hand. “Come back home, and I’ll leave them alone. Okay?”

Yuma sniffs and rubs at her nose with a fist. Then she stumbles forward.

“Yuma!” Asriel yelps after her, but she’s already folded into her father’s arms. She’s crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Shh, it’s alright. We’ll fix whatever they did to you. Come on,” he murmurs, hoisting her up. He gives Asriel a vicious glare that makes him flinch under the weight, then turns it on Toriel before turning his back on them entirely. “Let’s go home.”

Frisk looks at Toriel for help, but her hands are clenched into fists and her mouth is in a tight, silent line. She can’t do anything. They turn to Mami but she’s gaping. Then Chara rips herself free from Frisk’s hold.

She cups her hands around her mouth. “ _You’re a terrible father!_ ”

The man doesn’t even spare her a glance back. But Toriel gasps, “Chara!” and Chara whirls on her.

“Why didn’t you _do_ anything?!” Her teeth are grit so hard it’s a wonder any sound is making it out at all. “Didn’t you see her HoPe?! She’s _dying_ with him!”

It hits Frisk in their gut at the same time Toriel’s voice catches and stutters in her throat, excuses piling up into a block. Chara spins away to face down Frisk.

“And you! ‘Partner’!” Her snarl wrenches its way up her face, twisting her nose and eyebrows into _hate._ “ _You held me back._ ”

They jolt back and down, cowering. They’ve got no way to defend themself. She’s right.

“Chara, isn’t it?” Mami lays a hand on her shoulder. At the moment, Frisk reaches out to warn her, afraid she might lose it. “We can’t help Yuma by keeping her from her father ourselves. We _can,_ however, report his behavior to the police and have him investigated. Then they’ll take Yuma away to someplace safe. But Toriel’s the Queen. She can’t risk the safety of all of monsterkind with one illegal move, especially with - with the public’s current perception of monsters. You know this.” It’s surprising how calm she suddenly is, and Frisk can’t help but wonder how she came to be capable of this, and just how similar she and Toriel actually are. They must have spoken about a lot while they were separate from the trio.

Chara heaves in breath after breath, keeping silent as a minute ticks by. Her face is screwed up into a fury Frisk had had the good fortune of never seeing before, a level that makes them worry she hasn’t entirely moved on from the Underground.

But then Asriel comes close and draws her into a hug, and her hands clench up and she shakes like she’s trying very hard not to cry.

“I know,” he says, “I’m worried too. We’ll rescue her. We _will._ ”

Toriel finally gathers herself enough to kneel and join the hug, and Mami looks on awkwardly with her brand of unbounded concern and something wistful in her face, so Frisk steps over to her and gives her a side-hug so she at least won’t be alone.

They want to help, so much, but somehow, even if this whole ‘legal process’ thing works, they don’t think they’ll get to see Yuma again.


	22. Lunch at school like a normal kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so...  
> I meant to have this posted yesterday, but a friend of mine I had to move away from called me, and we talked, and he said I might like Danganronpa and I should play it. Me being a college student, I wanted to wait until a Steam sale to save as much as possible.  
> ...Instead, he bought me the game.  
> ...So that's where yesterday went.  
> All of it.  
> Sorry about that, guys ^_^;; I've only finished Chapter 2 so far, so please, no spoilers! Anyway, I wrote this chapter pretty much in one go, so please let me know if there are any grammatical errors or if something isn't consistent or anything like that. Thanks and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warning: references to suicide within, and also Frisk dodges a bullet, sorta.

“You need to talk.”

Asriel has leaned against the hallway opposite their door in his pajamas and waited until they came out this morning for school. Now they fidget in the doorway, unable to meet his eyes.

“Frisk.” He leans forward. “I had to help you hide from Smi-- I mean - you know who I mean.”

They know, they _know_ they owe him. And they’ve been stalling for too long as it is. But a silly, simple little worry has taken root in their brain and won’t let go.

They realize he’s waiting for them to respond. After a second, they suggest, **‘Smiles’.**

He huffs. “Fine, ‘Smiles’.” He offers them a softer one of his own. “You don’t have to do - whatever it is you’re doing, _alone,_ you know?”

They nod, but there’s no feeling behind it. Chara’s been bitter about them heading out at night to save _humans_ from these despair-causing creatures, and only let up on them when they reminded her they were saving monsters too, and besides, they needed to keep going or they’d run out of magic and fall down. It didn’t help that they accidentally blurted out that he was the man they’d saved a few weeks ago. From a Familiar. A thing that didn’t even give them any reward for killing it.

“Is - did something happen?” Asriel’s voice jolts them back to the real world. “I-It’s okay, you can tell me, if there’s been an accident -”

They shake their head, arms up and waving an X for the universal gesture for _‘absolutely not’_ when their mom’s voice carries down the hall.

“Are you three up? We do not want to be late for class!”

Asriel sighs, recognizing that his time as an interrogator was coming to an end, at least for this morning. “I’ve been patient,” he says, “because I was hoping you’d find the right time to come say something. But you’ve just been avoiding him for weeks. Papyrus misses you.”

Frisk lets their shoulders fall. They know. They feel bad enough already about it. But, if Sans reacted that way toward Kyouko, then - to see them with _this_ weighing down their SOUL, and after reaching the surface? It would look like a betrayal. Like a trick.

And they’ve been trying not to think about RESETting, so that they won’t be tempted to start over before they’ve gathered enough intel to avoid this whole mess next time. Or, that’s what they tell themself to assuage the terror.

The simple, silly little worry that they might _have_ to RESET once this gets out.

The not-so-silly fear that they might take a wholly different path once they _do_ RESET. One that would leave them out of this completely, and alone.

“One of them must have noticed by now,” Asriel adds. They grimace. He’s probably already suspicious, maybe even gotten a glimpse of their EXP.

“Children?” Toriel pokes her head in. “Asriel! Get dressed!”

He sighs. This time, Frisk’s stalling has won. “Yes, Mom.” He trudges off.

Before they can think much about it, they, Chara and Asriel are off to school, engrossed in their educational material and certainly _not_ casting concerned and guilty glances back and forth, thank you very much. There’s a test coming up soon, some sort of science lab they should have learned the math for last week. Key word being _should._

After an agonizing couple of hours - waiting and waiting and nervousness building in their belly and more waiting, and then finally the actual lab - they’re done and can’t even be bothered to worry about their score. It’s over and that’s what counts.

Lunch and recess in New Home are a little constrained - the group of recently-abandoned buildings designated the school has no extra room around them except for the streets, but luckily they’re allowed to run around between buildings to burn off some of that childhood energy. Case in point: all around them, Frisk’s classmates are getting into play-encounters to spend extra magical energy and practice patterns. None of them really want to FIGHT so much as mess with each other, so nothing’s doing real damage. Still, Frisk is glad when they're not dragged into any encounters on their way to a secluded little alley where they can hopefully eat their lunch in peace, and plan out what to say to Asriel -

“Frisk!”

Speak of the monster. He and Chara are catching up behind them. Frisk slows their pace, ignoring the curdling in their gut. They’re magical now. They’re magical now. They’re magical now. They hope it doesn’t show on their face.

“You weren’t thinking of ditching us, were you, partner?” Chara teases. They give her a smile, but from her face falling they know it didn’t come out right.

“It’s about the thing you won’t tell me, isn’t it,” Asriel sighs. Frisk turns their face to the ground as they walk.

Eventually they all reach the alleyway, and the boundaries of the school. Beyond here, it’s housing and some local shops but mostly empty buildings. The vast majority of monsters moved out when the Barrier opened up. Of course, with the way negotiations were going, that could change soon enough.

Asriel settles beside them, unpacking his PB&J right away and taking a couple huge bites out to start with. His Boss Monster jaw allows for quite a reach, and the current fangs only hint at what he had in his God of Hyperdeath form - something closer to those that Toriel and Asgore share.

Chara, on his other side, looks on with a mildly horrified fascination. He only notices after he’s finished the first two bite and taken the third.

“...What?”

Her expression morphs into something more impish. “Betcha you can’t eat the whole thing in one bite.”

Asriel gapes at her for a moment. Then, keeping pointed eye contact, he carefully squishes the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. His cheeks are bulging out by the time he’s done. Somehow, he manages to stick his tongue out at her.

Chara cracks up. “Fine, fine! You win a free Nice Cream next time we’re aboveground.” Frisk can’t help but silently giggle too: the prince of all monsters looks less regal and more chipmunk-y. Then she gestures at Frisk. “You’re free to talk now.”

Frisk freezes, and Asriel lets out a muffled groan as he realizes her trick. He’s gnawing at the peanut butter but it’ll be another five or ten minutes before he can speak again.

Put on the spot, their nerves ratchet up and their tongue falls numb. Their ring, which they’ve taken to wearing on a thin cord around their neck, suddenly feels heavy and conspicuous, nevermind how much time they know they took this morning making sure it wasn’t visible. Unbidden, their hand rises to mess with it, but they force it back down.

Asriel’s giving them that look again, the one he copied from Mom. Frisk looks between him and Chara, unable to keep their eyes still. She seems so smug, so self-assured; does she not realize? Has it not hit her, what they’ve become? They only just realized a night or two ago, and it’s enough to make them wish they’d never said anything to begin with.

Of course, Asriel grew up outside of the wartimes, so perhaps he wouldn’t be as disturbed as they’re worried he’ll be.

The two of them are looking at Frisk expectantly, Asriel still furiously chewing. Frisk drops their eyes. They try to SAVE; maybe they’ll have to try several different ways of wording things. But they don’t feel determined. They just feel lost.

Chara stands, and moves to their other side to sit beside them. She lays a hand on their shoulder. “Hey, um… if this is really hard for you, I can tell him.”

They raise their arms. But that fear gets the better of them. **You can’t tell anyone, alright?**

Asriel blinks at them. But he nods, unable to get anything more out at the moment.

 **I -** It shouldn’t be this hard. They can trust him. They can admit they’re magical.

They can admit they’re a human magician.

“Frisk made a wish,” Chara says in their pause. After a second, Frisk lets their arms fall, and nods.

Chara gives them a concerned look, but barrels forward anyway. “It’s what brought us back, and everyone else.”

Asriel’s eyes go wide.

“But, when they made the wish, they didn’t know what they were getting into.” Chara meets their eyes, but Frisk can’t bring themself to take over again. They should’ve known they couldn’t do this. “There are these things called Witches, okay? They’re made of magic and LOVE, and they’re invisible to most people, and they cause people to, w-well…” She stumbles over her words for a split second. It stabs Frisk to their SOUL. Why did they let _Chara_ take over telling Asriel about _this?_

Before she can finish, they lean forward and sign, **Witches feed on despair. They cause it by killing people, and they do that messing with their minds. They use a person’s fears and guilt to drive them to, to hurt themselves.**

Asriel’s eyes are almost wider than his jaw at this point. Before he can say anything, or try to, they keep going.

 **I have to fight them in exchange for my wish. But it’s not - a Witch isn’t a person like you or me. They don’t act like they have SOULs.** And Frisk realizes what they’ve just said. **I MEAN - I mean, they’re not even** **_individuals,_ ** **well they’re kind of unique but they’re not** **_intelligent,_ ** **they’re more like forces than people -** but the damage was already done, they can see it on his face. Plain as when he could still morph it.

He’s blinking a bit more, but gestures for them to go on. They take a moment to sort out their thoughts. They need to be _careful._ (They’re such an idiot.)

 **Kyuubey -** (they spell this out just as Q-B, to make it easier) **\- the wish-granter, it said I would have to fight despair. It didn’t tell me the despair was in the form of these things. So I’ve been working together with a couple other magical girls -** They freeze.

Asriel had managed to start trying to chew again, but he stops at that phrase.

“That’s what Kyuubey calls them.” Chara’s able to help again. Maybe she just got sick of watching them bungle it. “So that’s where Frisk has been going at night, and that’s why they’re hurt sometimes in the morning, and that’s why they’re hiding from Sans. They had to save someone from a thing called a Familiar. Witches make those, to help them, I guess.” She shifts uncomfortably.

His mouth is finally free. “S-so, you gained LOVE from defeating one of these, these ‘familiars’?”

His voice is shaking. Guilt claws up and down their spine. They nod.

“A-and, ‘q-b’ called you a ‘magical girl’.”

They nod again. Their eyes are burning.

“Did you try to talk to them, maybe?” Frisk’s eyes snap up. His voice is growing stronger.

 **I did. That’s what let a Familiar attack me. It knew things it had no way of knowing - that’s how we know they use your own fears against you.** Frisk swallows but their hands keep moving. **Kyuubey said no one has ever managed to convince a Witch not to attack other people, not ever. And - and I** **_want_ ** **to try, but I barely survived a Familiar. How am I supposed to -** They stop, breathe.

“Frisk.” Asriel’s leaning forward, placing a paw on their arm. “Please, listen. You don’t need to FIGHT.”

 **I** **_have_ ** **to.** Asriel’s gentle expression drops. **I don’t have a choice - if I don’t I’ll** **_fall down._ **

The air of the Underground presses down on them. Asriel opens his mouth and closes it, several times. He’s finally, finally looking very afraid.

“Partner…” Chara moves around them again, and puts her arms around each of her siblings' shoulders. “So. Yeah. Kyuubey left some things out before Frisk made their wish. And they can’t undo it.”

“Y-you could - you could RESET -”

 **And leave you both dead?** Frisk meets his eyes and stares him down.

“So Frisk is in a bit of a tight spot at the moment,” she says dryly. Asriel gives her a look, like she has some sort of answer and is holding out just long enough to be sarcastic. Her face falls at his expression. “I’ve been helping them out as much as I can - getting food so they can heal, making excuses, that sort of thing. But we _do_ need to plan for when this _does_ come out.”

 **It can’t.** Frisk’s hands fly up so fast they nearly hit their sibs in the face. Frisk draws their hands back in. **It** **_can’t,_ ** **I’m** **_magical_ ** **now. You get what that means, don’t you, Asriel?** They look at him, hoping against hope that he doesn’t.

It’s plain on his face that he does. “I - I’ll,” he starts. “I can handle Mom and Dad, they won’t think any less of you -”

“What?” It’s equally as clear Chara doesn’t. “Why would they - we’re not telling them yet because they’ll want to fight the Witches and they’ll get _dusted._ Why would they think less of _Frisk_ for _defending_ them?”

“They’ll -” It’s Asriel’s turn to look shocked again. “Are - are those, really just as powerful, as -”

 **Yes.** Frisk can’t let him finish that sentence. Can’t look at his face when he does.

That clicks for Chara just then, as she looks back and forth between them. “Oh. Oh, no, no - they’re not monsters, or humans, they’re just lingering magic infected by despair, right Frisk? They’re not - they’re not what you’re thinking,” she finishes.

Asriel draws back and her face screws up.

“Frisk,” he says, “They don’t have SAVEs, right? They just wander around the world and attack people. They don’t - control anything. Right?”

Frisk’s stomach bottoms out.

The Labyrinths. The Barriers. They hadn’t even _thought_ of that. But it is very much like having a separate, special little world one has complete control over, isn’t it.

They take too long to answer.

Asriel is shaking. Chara wraps her arms around him, and faces down Frisk. “Well? Answer him! He’s right, right? They’re not like monsters or humans.” She’s exactly as determined as they aren’t, as they should’ve been.

 **R-Right.** They can’t afford to be shaking right now. It’s important that they _fix_ this. **They don’t talk or plan or** **_think._ ** **They’re not people.**

“B-but, they come from people,” he murmurs.

They shake their head firmly. **No, they do not.**

Asriel starts to calm down. He takes a few deep breaths, and suddenly lets out a giggle. “This is crazy. Everything’s crazy.” Shaking his head, he mutters, “So there are things not quite like flowers who hide in their own SAVE files and get people to kill themselves, and you got tricked into being forced to FIGHT them or you’ll fall down like a monster.” But despite his tone, he’s smiling, ever so slightly.

Frisk smiles right back. It’s working out in the end after all. **Right, and I’m a human magician now.**

“Right!” They and Asriel crack up, laughing to relieve the tension more than anything, so they don’t notice when Chara stills.

“...A magician?” she asks, softer than their laughter, so Frisk just barely catches it. “Oh. I see why they might be a bit upset.”

She stands up, taking a step or so back from the pair. “Hey partner, let’s show off your magic dress and weapon, huh?”

Frisk wipes at their eyes, but stands as well. Taking the ring out from underneath their shirt, they let it transform; going into an egg shape tends to free it from the cord, but they’ll have to thread it back on once they’re done. They reach into their SOUL and draw from the fount of magic.

Asriel lets out a gasp at their blinding clothes, before they settle into the now-somewhat-comforting dress shape. The dress by itself can be enough to block an attack from a Familiar as if it were made of iron. They’re honestly a bit more impressed with it than they’d admit to anyone.

They hesitate, then sign to Asriel, **My weapon turned out to be a knife. I don’t have any choice in that,** before they summon it and hold it loose, point down.

It was enough to throw Asriel back into shock. But Chara, being used to it, quips, “Way for magic to rub some salt in the wound, huh?” Frisk just nods dejectedly.

“You should change back,” he blurts out. Confused, Frisk obeys immediately anyway, slipping the ring onto their finger. “S-sorry. Just -”

 **Freaky at first and hard to get used to. I know,** they sign empathetically. He looks embarrassed at himself, but shudders out a quick nod.

“So, did that look anything like a human magician?” Chara demands. 

Tugging on his ears, Asriel shakes his head, but then mutters, “I don't know. They never - no one ever showed us...”

Chara makes a disappointed noise, but lets it go.

They stay quiet together for a minute or two.

“Okay.” Asriel breathes out a sigh and comes out from behind his ears. “Thanks for telling me.” Frisk is feeling the same way right now, honestly. It could’ve gone worse. ( _Much worse than telling Asriel he was basically a Witch?_ ) “But now we need to figure out how to tell everyone else -” 

Frisk _knows_ that flavor of thought. Ignoring Asriel’s assertion for the moment, they whip around on the spot, eyes darting back and forth. Searching.

“Frisk?” Chara sounds concerned. “It won’t be that bad, we can figure it out - what are you doing?”

Taking off their ring and transforming it again, they hold it up and turn in a slow circle. It doesn’t seem to be reading anything.

But it _is_ swirling with darkness.

They’re low on magic. Panic seeps into Frisk’s mind. How long has it been since they last hunted? A few days - _but,_ they remember with a jolt, _Mami and Kyouko shared the Grief Seed last time. They were lower than me._ So that makes it…

Frisk whips their hands around. **I can’t come back to class.**

“What?” they both gasp, but Frisk is signing over them.

 **I’m low on magic. I thought I heard a Familiar down here but it was really just me. When we get low on magic, we get...**  Frisk shakes their head. **I** **need to go.**

Asriel stands. His posture is impeccable, his voice calm and commanding. “I’m going with you.”

 **You’ll be dusted.** Did he forget where he is? He’s just a _kid_ right now, not a flower with a root system stretching across the extent of his world.

“I’m not letting you go alone.” He’s picking up on that thing Mom does when she’s speaking with a politician or twenty. Frisk feels their own will crumple.

“Wait a minute.” Chara’s shifting around in her own paper bag. She pulls out her Sea Tea and thrusts it at Frisk. “Drink this.”

They blink at her. Their hand takes it from her, but they’re a bit lost.

“It’s magic food, right? So if you drink it, you should get some magic back.” She meets their stare until it dawns on them.

They look at the drink again. **It can’t be that simple.**

“Well, _you_ can’t leave unless you want to explain all this to Mom _tonight._ I can’t keep you out of trouble with the school.” She’s got her arms crossed.

 **Well, it’s worth a shot.** They open it up and take a sip.

Nothing noticeable changes in their gem, but maybe it’s too little to make that big of a difference. Otherwise…

 **How powerful were magicians before the war?** they ask, and go back to drinking it.

“Um. I dunno,” Asriel says. “We didn’t learn too much about them.”

They almost stumble where they’re standing. They can hardly believe they didn’t realize.

“What?”

 **Kyuubey keeps us a secret, but we weren’t secret at all before the war, were we?** Their straw slurps at the bottom of the pouch. They double-check their gem. It doesn’t look too different, but then again, their mind isn’t being cruel right now.

“I mean, I guess not?” He looks a little confused. “Why would you need to be kept a secret? It just seems like it’s caused us a bunch of problems.”

Off to the side, Chara has adopted a glower. They're not sure at first why she might be angry, but then, she _would_ know what humanity could do... Maybe it's something to do with that. Frisk just shrugs at Asriel, resolving not to bother her about it for now.

 **Anyway, I think this is working. Good idea, thanks!** They open up their own bag; it also has a Sea Tea. Grinning sheepishly, they offer it to her.

But she forces a smile and waves it off. “You need it more, go ahead. I’ll get some water.” And she heads off toward the classrooms without another word.

Frisk and Asriel exchange a glance, but forcing the issue has never done her any good. Lunch is almost over, besides. Schoolwork will hopefully help her forget, and then they can play a game or something after school.

And no matter how much they don't want to, they really do need to figure out what to say to Toriel, or whether she'll remember anything they say at all.


	23. The News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long. I started this chapter, had to stop and was having a bit of trouble finding the motivation to move past that point. It was a weird place to stop.
> 
> Anyway, this story is bucking my plans. I didn't intend it to go this way, but it ended up making the most sense, so here you go!

The school day finally ends with the prototypical bell, and Frisk, Asriel and Chara hang around Toriel as she prepares to head home. Gathering up the papers on her desk, she stuffs them into her bag before greeting them at her office door with a smile. The “office” itself is hardly more than a closet, but then, it's an Underground building. It was the best they could do. 

“Well, my children,” she says, “Shall we head home?”

The trip back takes them through the old throne room and its now-overgrown flowerbed. Frisk spares a thought for the blooms; they're glad there's nothing hiding in them, anymore. 

Chara is picking her way through the mess, sticking to the trodden-down path. She's progressed to the point that Toriel no longer feels the need to coax her through, which is no small feat. When they first moved the school down here, Chara had taken one look and stepped back out. She'd refused to go back in for a full hour. It was her distress that had caused Toriel to fight moving the school Underground, but ultimately, she hadn't had a choice. 

On the first day, Asriel supported her like she had him on the day they were revived, and with their mom behind her, hand on her shoulder, she made it across. 

Today, she steps ahead and breaks into a run once her feet hit bare stone. Frisk is pretty proud of her, if they're honest. They chase after her to catch up, and they race out into the blinding light of the surface. 

Into the multiple blinding,  _ flashing  _ lights. 

“There they are!”

“I’m standing live before the entrance into the Underground, where the Barrier reportedly stood until a couple months ago, freeing an entire hidden race of creatures and a human child,” a news anchor begins. The cameras were trained on the cave’s opening that Frisk and Chara had just stepped out of, and where they now stood frozen. “Soon after, the number of these creatures - calling themselves ‘monsters’ - tripled, and another reported seven children emerged. Six of these were hospitalized and alleged the new species were  _ murderers, _ but the seventh was nowhere to be found - until today.”

Frisk felt a large hand on their shoulder - Toriel and Asriel had caught up. They gratefully slipped behind her with Chara.

The anchor held the microphone out to Toriel. “Mrs. Queen of Monsters, how did these human children come to be in your household?”

Her shocked expression hardened. “They each fell Underground, and I took them in, for their protection.”

The anchor nodded. “And the other six children? Did they fall down the same hole?”

She pauses for a second, then says, “No comment. Please schedule an appointment through the official avenues next time. My children and I would like to return home after a long day of classes.” 

Frisk spots the same trap she had right as she finishes dismissing them. If she'd said yes, they would've asked why she couldn't, or didn't, protect them. It would've been a public relations disaster. It's a good thing their mom is smarter than that. These guys are way out of their league. 

As Toriel takes their hand and Chara’s in her other, trailing Asriel by his sister's free hand, and begins to lead them around the intrusive crowd, the myriad reporters fire off question after question. 

“Your Majesty, what happened to the other six children? Why aren't they with you?”

“Queen Toriel, do you have any thoughts on the claims of murder, or the upcoming Asgore trial?”

“Mrs. Dreemurr, do you really have the authority to call those two human children yours?”

Frisk’s stomach drops to the bottom of their soles with a hollow thud.

Toriel stops. She looks down on that reporter with utter disdain. The man wilts.

“What I mean to say, is, uh, have you gone through the official channels in order to legally adopt these two, because if not, uh -”

“My children have chosen to stay with me,” she says coldly. “And after choosing to climb this mountain, which your legends say no one returns from. One must wonder what drove them to such an extent.”

Before she has finished, the crowd is roaring their responses:  _ Are you implying that monsters are better than humans,  _ and  _ Answer the question - did you or did you not kidnap these two,  _ and  _ If your own husband did in fact attempt to murder six children, how can you justify keeping these two? _

The aura around her thickens like a storm. Toriel tugs them away at a brisk walk, the sheer weight of her displeased presence clearing a path. Frisk keeps their head up, face neutral (they hope), and steps sturdy no matter how much it feels like their knees will give out. Cameras flash in their face. They catch Chara sticking a tongue out once before Toriel stops her with a hushed rebuke. 

After what seems like way too much time, they’ve finally walked far enough away that the last of the news crews trying to follow them have given up and gone back to their trucks, to catch them outside of their house, most likely. Then, their mom slows to a halt, pulls out her phone and sends a text.

Chara wraps her arms around her. “They can't take us away, Mom,” she says. “I won't let them.” There's something in her voice, or maybe her determined face, that chills them.

Toriel draws her, Frisk, and Asriel close. Her arms tighten around them. But she doesn't speak. 

“hey. got your text.” Frisk’s stomach drops even further. It's too late to hide now, though. 

Sans trudges up, offering the group a hand. “one-way ticket to a paparazzi-free zone, hop on.”

He gives them a glance and they know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he sees it. But he's putting it aside for Tori’s sake. 

It's then that her voice raises, though only to a murmur. “I may have made a grave mistake, responding to them.”

“was watching it live. listen, you didn't make the mistake. asgore did. and they shouldn't have ambushed you like that. they're in the wrong.” He gives up on waiting and moves to rest his hand on her back. 

“But that is not how humanity will see it,” she growls. 

“well then, we'll just have to prove it to them. once they see how -” He pauses for a moment and Frisk’s shoulders stiffen “- happy and healthy these kiddos are, they'll leave you alone.”

“I hope you are right, my friend.” Toriel takes in a deep breath and straightens, loosening her arms from around them. “Please, get us home.”

The teleport brings them right into their living room, all windows locked and shuttered and the doors bolted shut. It's how they leave it every day. Now, Frisk isn't sure they can afford to stop any time soon. 

Toriel withdraws and, with a few words of comfort to Chara, heads to her study. The news outlets wouldn't be so focused if there wasn't some sort of movement centered around them and Chara, Frisk thinks, and it looks like their mom has the same idea. And with the trial coming up, the true future of monsters will soon be decided. It's all about public perception now; as much stock as officials seem to put into legal proceedings, it's been obvious with just a little digging that the outcome of a trial has as much to do with proof as with politics and public opinion. 

They aren't sure there's much hope for their dad. At this point, they should be more focused on minimizing the damage to the rest of their family and monsters as a whole. That's what an adult is supposed to do, right? Work toward the result that's best for everyone, take some hits for the team. Not waste time crying. 

Rubbing at their stupid eyes, they turn toward the computer. They need to be better-informed as the Ambassador; if they hadn't spent so much time trying to enjoy themself hunting, they could've known about this and warned Mom, so technically it's their fault. But before they can step away, a bony hand claps down on their shoulder. 

“heya, kiddo,” he says. His grin is anything but pleased. “it's been a while. let's talk.”

Frisk’s lip trembles uselessly, but they knew this was coming. They couldn't hide forever. Should've been better prepared. They nod. 

Sans steers them into the living room, tossing up a couple bones in the doorway when Chara attempts to follow. 

“nuh-uh. you stay put. i need to talk to frisk.”

“I know about their EXP,” she shoots at him. 

He turns to look at her, eyesockets darkening. 

“So does Asriel. And he understands too.” The force seeps out of her voice. “They have a good reason. Just hear them out.”

He pauses, but then nods. “and if the prince trusts them, they can't do any wrong, judging from his track record.” Chara flares up, baring her teeth, but he waves it off. “i’ll hear them out, don't panic.” And turns his back on her.

Frisk fidgets with their sleeves. It wasn't the best job he could've done convincing her, but then, they suppose he has a right to be on edge. After all, they were hiding from him. Usually that's as good as an admission of guilt, in movies. 

Sans takes a seat in the very center of the couch. They can either sit next to him or stand uncomfortably out in front. He folds his hands and leans forward, resting entirely black sockets on them. “alright, kiddo…”

Then he drops it on them.

“you'd better have a real good reason you're LV  _ six. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theme music:  
> https://youtu.be/rKVty1HGvx8


	24. Breakthrough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this has taken so long, I wrote and rewrote the first half of this chapter and had to decide on who gets to know what at this point so I can work out the consequences later, and, just - stuff is coming. Stuff is boiling over real soon.
> 
> Also: If you're wondering why this happened so soon, Frisk's presence and actions during this timeline have thrown things way off their original course.

_LV...six?_

That… that can’t be right. They can’t have killed that many Familiars, they only just started... And, and they don’t want to hurt anyone. They want to save people, they don’t want to be a burden or get in the way or mess things up any more than they already have, they _can’t_ be LV six, this isn’t how that _feels._

Frisk trembles in their spot. LV six? LV _six?_

“hey, frisk.” Sans snaps his phalanges a couple times, making a clinking noise. They blink and look back up. He’s got a strange expression on his face, like he’s wavering between on-guard and off, like he’s running through a mental checklist of monsters and taking note of when he last saw them, or maybe weighing their every twitch against what he knows someone with LV acts like. Or maybe they’re just being optimistic and he thinks they’ve snapped. “you promised me an explanation, remember? and judging from how _you clearly know what LV six means,_ i’d say it’s a pretty good story.”

They hadn’t even _thought_ of that. They’re shaking and their eyes are burning and they doubt they'd be able to sign even if they could come up with something to say.

...LV _six??_

“you're looking a little spooked,” he says. “i’m guessing it's a bit of a surprise to you? yep, that's what i thought.” He leans back against the couch. “so you know what you should've had to do in order to build up that much, and you haven't done that, have you? your EXP is nowhere near high enough to support that on your own. but there's a little bit i probably left out when i explained it all, because, see, you were the only human down there, so it couldn't’ve happened.”

Something he left out because it couldn't have happened underground. Something that requires other humans… They're reeling. Sans has probably already guessed about them meeting with Kyouko. He's gonna blame Kyouko.

He raises an eyebrow… somehow. “come on, kid, aren't you curious about what i mean? go on, ask me.”

Despite his words, he waits patiently while they gather up something to say. They start, aborting the sign halfway through. They try in vain to still their shaking hands - make a fist, then open up, and repeat. They start again, stop again. Their hair falls in their face. It takes three tries to successfully brush it aside.

Frisk’s knees fold and they give up, tumbling to the floor.

Sans stands, but he's still too wary to make himself vulnerable by offering any comfort. Instead, he goes on, “think about what LV stands for. ‘Level of Violence’. it measures how easy it is for a person to harm another. the only way it goes up is by witnessing a violent death - being near enough to absorb some of the magic lost by the person dying.” In the brief pause while Sans finds his next words, they realize what he’s getting at. “now, if you were the only human, that death would have to be by your own hands. but _you're not._ ”

He gives them a sharp look, and they drop his gaze immediately. “you've stuck around that girl even after i warned you, haven't you. she's been committing murder, and you've stuck around to watch. that's what sent your LV so high.”

 _He thinks... I would... watch._ Murder. Is that what eradicating those Familiars is, really? They’re made of magic, true, but they don’t show any real individuality or thought, aside from wanting to kill others. Can it really be termed ‘murder’ to get rid of creatures like that?

As Frisk sorts through their thoughts, it hits them low how _pointless_ it was to refuse to fight, if simply watching their teammates was enough to harden them to a Familiar’s death.

And then it hits them how true that is.

 _They've been letting these things die for weeks now. Feeling the malice directed at them, at everything, and choosing to defend the magical girls over these things._  
  
_What's one more, over this man's life?_

“i hoped you'd stay out of it.” He sighs, and finally kneels beside them, laying a hand on their back. “but frisk, you've got EXP now. you've killed someone.”

They manage to meet his eyes. They aren't pitch black, but the lights are very, very dim.

“that's why you started avoiding me 'n Paps, right? you…” He struggles with the words for a moment, but gives up. “just… just tell me why. why do this now, kiddo? why do this at all?” His eyelights search their face. “were some of the revived people a, a danger, to reintegration or something? did -” He stops as they manage to hold up a hand.

 **No monsters,** they sign, sitting up. They take a deep breath, to still their trembling hands. _I’m LV six._ **No one has killed any monsters.**

“kid, no,” he breathes. “you - you haven't been taking out our human enemies -”

 **No, no!** They didn't think of that, they should _think_ for once - **No people - human or monster - have died.**

“then what, animals?” Sans shakes his head. “sorry, kiddo, but you can't gain LV unless you watch a person die.”

 **That can't be true,** Frisk counters, **because we haven't killed any people. That's not what we fight.**

“you mean you and that red-haired girl, right?” He leans back on his heels. “so you knew she had LV, i could've sworn you didn't -”

 **I didn't.** They pause. Sans waits patiently. They should get all this out in one go. No room for any more misunderstandings. **But I knew what she fought. It's these things made of despair and malice and magic and LV. But they aren't people, they don't have SOULs. They _target_ people, to kill them and feed off the grief it causes. We call them Witches.**

They take a moment to scrutinize him. Sans looks a bit disbelieving, but it's fading. Then he laughs. “you're telling the truth. i should've known. nothing would motivate you to do this except something like that, right? i'm sorry, frisk, i shouldn't've -”

_Frisk!_

Frisk goes still. _Hello?_

_It's Kyuubey. Mami needs your help, hurry!_

Sans noticed. He’s eyeing them. “kiddo, what -”

**I need to go.**

“oh, no, you don’t.” He sets himself directly between them and the doorway, still blocked off, as they stand up. “we’re not done here.”

Frisk chews their bottom lip. **Someone could die.**

“what are you - no. you’re definitely not going, tori’d kill me if i let you put yourself in danger -”

Frisk darts around the couch and runs straight for the bones blocking the doorway. Just as they'd hoped, the trap disappears to avoid hurting them, but they hear a familiar _ting_ and like a trained dog, throw themself aside.

It's much easier than it should be.

At the same time, Sans makes a strangled sound of confusion and shock from behind them. They're already scrambling to their feet, signing frantically, **Sorry, I have to go, they need my help, they could die -**

Chara is shoving them toward the door, hissing “Go, _go!_ I'll explain it to him, just _go_ -”

And Frisk is out the door before their mother can hear the clamor.

...

 _Where?_ they demand from Kyuubey as they run. _Where is she?_

 _At the corner of Oak and 2nd,_ Kyuubey reports. _I'll direct you._

They race through the city with an augmented speed they weren't even aware they were capable of. It's just past rush hour, the heavy traffic forcing them to take back roads and alleyways to avoid being seen. They haven't even transformed yet. By the time it occurs to them to use the boosted jumps to gain ground, the Labyrinth is ahead of them, wavering like an illusion in summer heat. They rush headlong inside.

All around them, the Labyrinth is shuddering, melting, losing substance. The Witch must be gone. And out in front -

Mami is locked in combat with another _magical girl._ Someone outfitted in black with white tights, an eerie grin gracing her face. But Mami’s moving _slowly._

The black-caped magical girl throws herself at Mami with abandon, wielding two sets of long, hooked claws that Mami is barely able to block with her muskets. Every shot she fires goes wide, the other girl easily stepping around the bullets to almost rip into Mami before she tosses herself into a desperate dodge. The missed strikes by her claws dig deep slices into the Labyrinth’s ground.

The dress bursts into being around Frisk, their knife forming in their hand as they leap into the fight. They lift it just in time, catching the girl’s claws on the serrations. Her gaze turns to them.

Then she’s darting around them with inhuman speed, weaving her claws through their pitiful defense to rip into their stomach -

The world freezes, and turns back.

Frisk is at the entrance again. The girl trips in her forward assault, her mind still stuck in another time. Her eyes whip around until they lock onto Frisk. Their shoulders raise. They step into a guard.

She’s on them again, whipping around and hammering into their knife and sending aches ratcheting down their arms, this isn’t something they’re built to keep up with. _They’re_ supposed to be the swift dodger.

But they’ve given Mami enough time to escape, hopefully.

Except Mami would never leave them behind.

There’s some kind of sound echoing around them - it’s _laughter,_ it suddenly clicks, she’s _laughing._ The edge of a hook catches in their wrist and they open their mouth to scream -

The world freezes and turns back.

The girl slips onto her face. She snarls, tossing herself back onto her feet -

And all around her, Mami’s arsenal opens fire.

Arms over her face, the girl throws herself onto her back, and above her the bullets slow in the air until they hit no harder than tiny softballs.

Mami’s at their side. “Keep her there, Frisk!” she orders.

Frisk tries to drag the arena back and slips to a knee, spots flashing behind their eyes. _I - can’t, I don’t have enough -_ they send. And of course they can’t, they could never be useful when it’s actually _necessary._

Mami grabs their wrist, tugging them over to press a Grief Seed against their gem. They manage to take a deep breath.

A claw sinks into the back of Mami’s neck.

The world freezes -

The black-caped magical girl flips over immediately this time, and Mami conjures musket after musket, refusing to let up while she still has magic left. Under the onslaught, the girl closes her claws to try to cover as much of her body as possible. But she doesn’t curl up, instead lying on her back and writhing her way around to find an escape.

 _Who is she? What happened?_ Frisk demands.

“Her name is Kure Kirika,” Mami says. “And she attacked me with the intent to kill me.”

 _What?!_ They can’t - no, they don’t _want_ to understand _why._

“She has been killing magical girls all over this city,” Mami adds. “I would very much like to find out why. But she hasn’t been all that _cooperative_ with conversation.”

The girl has stopped writhing, focusing all of her energy on slowing the bullets. Frisk grabs at Mami’s arm.

_You can’t keep that up, it’ll kill her! Then - then you won’t be any better than she is!_

Mami startles, taken aback. “Then - what do you propose we do? She’ll just keep attacking us!”

They’re not sure. They pause, only for a moment. There has to be some way to trap her, that won’t kill her. They can’t kill anyone, and they absolutely _cannot watch her die._

And their feet are moving before they’ve brought the complete thought up to their conscious mind.

“Frisk!” she yells after them, but they’re already closing on Kirika, arms over their head. They step into the path of the bullets -

Kirika’s gaze rests on them, and flicks back and forth all over the field, as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Of course. They’ve stepped back into her effect.

The first bullet hits them from behind. It doesn’t feel like a true gunshot, but they can’t fall forward fast enough to absorb the energy before another hits them. Each one feels more like a blow that keeps pushing. They’re getting _pummeled._

“ _Frisk!_ ” Mami screams, and the bullets vanish. The muskets arrayed above them fall silent, waiting for their orders like malevolent pets. They recall this feeling, dimly aware of collapsing forward onto Kirika. It’s from that one timeline. The one they hate.

Kirika’s clawless hand fixes itself on their upper arm, hauling them up with her. The girl holds them in front of her like a shield, but offers them a discordantly genuine smile. “You’ve saved my life!”

“Let them go,” Mami orders. Her voice only shakes a little.

Kirika smiles at her in turn. “No can do! Sorry, old savior, but I’ve got a new one I need to reward before I finish my business here and go home.” She lets out a giggle. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t given any orders about _them._ ”

 _I won’t let you kill Mami._ Frisk seals the telepathic message with a glare.

She turns a puzzled look on them. “No? But that makes this such a pain.”

Her other hand re-summons the claws.

“ _I don’t like leaving debts unpaid._ ”

In a panic, Frisk yanks away and is thrown to the side, legs twisting underneath them and toppling them onto their stomach, knife arm trapped under them while Mami leaps out to stop the strike behind them and it was never intended to hit them but to _bait Mami -_

Perfect regret and fear and impulse flood them and their magic bursts out.

.

..

...

Their limbs are heavy.

They can hear Mami still breathing behind them, and she sounds okay, so something must’ve gone right. They can hear Kirika too, but there’s - a weird hiccup, or something, interrupting eerily regularly, over and over. Frisk braces themself and pushes up to their knees. They turn around.

Their breath stops.

Before them, Mami lands on one foot as if she were running, but in slow motion. Kirika, also just as slow, twists her claws around to catch Mami across the chest -

They stop, and are set back to their original positions. Kirika twisting around from facing Frisk, and Mami midair, landing.

Between them, stuck deep in the ground, is a small branch. The end sticking out of the ground is giving off a glow that reaches only to the edges of the two trapped inside it. It’s also splitting incrementally with each reset, further and further down its middle. Eventually, probably not today or tomorrow or maybe even during this week, but eventually, it will be fully split in two.

Frisk buries their face in their hands.


	25. Author's Note

Hey guys,

So it's been ten days since I last updated. 

College just started again and already I've had to write a paper and start building a test plan for a programming project that'll take until the end of September. I'm currently going full-time and I can tell this semester's going to be tough. It's always been difficult for me to find the motivation to finish a project if it's not for school or work, and even those I drag my feet on because I know I'm going to trip over every technicality in the instructions and waste hours worrying. Usually I can set aside a creative project until later, but this time I've got an audience and I am absolutely _not_ used to this. 

This story has really gotten away from me. It looks nothing like the original sketch of an idea that inspired me to write the first few chapters, and in my eager haste to include absolutely every bit of PMMM lore ever, I neglected the whole Undertale side of things. In addition, it's becoming harder to draw everything together, and I'm finding myself regretting some of what I've already written.

So, unfortunately I'm going to have to put this on hiatus.

This doesn't mean it'll never update again. I just need the time to plan out an actual story instead of a series of scenes, and I'd like to have the monsters involved sooner than they were this time. I'm gonna have to go back and change some chapters and just reorganize. There are some magic system details I'll need to change to dovetail better with UT canon, I want to work more on characterization and including beloved characters instead of writing nearly everything from just Frisk's PoV, and I would prefer the story be ~30 longish chapters at maximum instead of as many as it is now, with only ~1500 words each on average. I'm never going to reach the Walpurgisnacht fight at this rate.

(And that right there is part of the problem - without a solid, detailed plan, I'm following the PMMM schedule. Who says that's where it has to end?)

You guys have been really great! I never thought I'd get so many views or kudos, especially not on such a specific crossover story, and it's been inspiring to read your comments and talk with you. Thank you all so, so much.

I'll post to here when I'm ready to RESET.

Thanks and God bless,

Alice


End file.
